Eight months ago I was not well. I had terrible sciatica in my left butt cheek. I had a constant charlie horse feeling on the left side of my groin . When i got up off the couch, i limped the first 12 steps. Getting in and out of the car was agony.
I couldn't sleep on my left side.
I struggled up and down the steps getting in and out of my place, and always held the railing.
I popped advil like it was candy and none of my clothes fit; somehow, overnight, I had gone up three sizes. And this was just physical. Mentally, I was beat and still angry - about my career, about my dad, about myself....I was in chaos.
I was life tired.
I wondered, is this it? 42, feel like crap, hate the world, mad at myself, and basically going to need a walker in 5 years.
It was time, I thought, to start unloading some of the junk.
And so here we are - Junk in my Trunk.
I'm not a Boomer, but literally just spend 85 minutes figuring out how to upload that bloody pink truck you see. I suppose I am considered Gen X, but who actually knows because I've seen various articles that say I'm actually a Millenial. I wrote my university essays in word and printed them on a dot matrix printer (such satisfaction ripping off those perforated sides!). I used the dewy decimal system to research essays and handwrote (gasp!) my notes in in university lectures (Gawd - if you pulled out a laptop you were literally a giant fucking nerd). My first cell phone was a blackberry pearl (hello little tracker ball thingie.)
I grew up on the cusp - the first in my fam to go to Uni (actually, as it turns out the only one), full of ambition and goals. Smart. Not the most popular but not unpopular either, awkward teenage and twenties years, but grew more attractive as I got older. Expectations were high (from the fam, but also of myself.)
And yet. And yet.
And yet.
It started with an online fitness and lifestyle coach and a desire to not physically hurt anymore. I thought "if I can just feel healthy" - not skinny, not tiny - "if I can just not wince when I get out of bed in the morning." Initially that was my only goal - to just feel better physically. But a month or two in I thought "whoa - I can skip up these stairs but I also think that maybe there are possibilities...." And I let that fester for a while.
And then, four months later, I thought "hey - I've stuck with this, and been disciplined and committed and seen some results - maybe the possiblities, these ideas, could actually be realities."
I have a lot of shit to work through. But if I've learned anything about myself over the last eight months (and I'm not finished yet!), it's that I can work through it, and I can get over it, and I can figure it out. It's not going to happen overnight - but I hope you'll come along for the ride - and feedback is welcome. I won't know if I'm being a whiny bitch if someone doesn't tell me, right?
Welcome to Junk in my Trunk.....can't wait to start unloading :)
I couldn't sleep on my left side.
I struggled up and down the steps getting in and out of my place, and always held the railing.
I popped advil like it was candy and none of my clothes fit; somehow, overnight, I had gone up three sizes. And this was just physical. Mentally, I was beat and still angry - about my career, about my dad, about myself....I was in chaos.
I was life tired.
I wondered, is this it? 42, feel like crap, hate the world, mad at myself, and basically going to need a walker in 5 years.
It was time, I thought, to start unloading some of the junk.
And so here we are - Junk in my Trunk.
I'm not a Boomer, but literally just spend 85 minutes figuring out how to upload that bloody pink truck you see. I suppose I am considered Gen X, but who actually knows because I've seen various articles that say I'm actually a Millenial. I wrote my university essays in word and printed them on a dot matrix printer (such satisfaction ripping off those perforated sides!). I used the dewy decimal system to research essays and handwrote (gasp!) my notes in in university lectures (Gawd - if you pulled out a laptop you were literally a giant fucking nerd). My first cell phone was a blackberry pearl (hello little tracker ball thingie.)
I grew up on the cusp - the first in my fam to go to Uni (actually, as it turns out the only one), full of ambition and goals. Smart. Not the most popular but not unpopular either, awkward teenage and twenties years, but grew more attractive as I got older. Expectations were high (from the fam, but also of myself.)
And yet. And yet.
And yet.
It started with an online fitness and lifestyle coach and a desire to not physically hurt anymore. I thought "if I can just feel healthy" - not skinny, not tiny - "if I can just not wince when I get out of bed in the morning." Initially that was my only goal - to just feel better physically. But a month or two in I thought "whoa - I can skip up these stairs but I also think that maybe there are possibilities...." And I let that fester for a while.
And then, four months later, I thought "hey - I've stuck with this, and been disciplined and committed and seen some results - maybe the possiblities, these ideas, could actually be realities."
I have a lot of shit to work through. But if I've learned anything about myself over the last eight months (and I'm not finished yet!), it's that I can work through it, and I can get over it, and I can figure it out. It's not going to happen overnight - but I hope you'll come along for the ride - and feedback is welcome. I won't know if I'm being a whiny bitch if someone doesn't tell me, right?
Welcome to Junk in my Trunk.....can't wait to start unloading :)
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