Getting my shit back together

August 23, 2012 § Leave a comment

It is been one year and three months already. I now understand how being a sloth can be addictive. And it can drain you, not just physically but to a psychologically level.

I used to be a fitness junkie. Enjoyed waking up early and working out. Always had time for some pranayama. Matter of fact I even enjoyed following a proper diet. I was never a big junk food munchie, unlike my brother. I like to be in control. Keeping fit kept my mind positive. It helped me sustain my ego levels.

Then, on a fine pristine day, the snooze button became more and more convincing. I stopped going to the gym. It’s like a domino effect you know. Slowly everything fell. The letharginess took me over. The first thing that went down was the dieting. Fruits and veggies were my primary meal. Now, I can barely remember the last time I had a healthy course. Then, pranayama. The all gracious pranayama was replaced with snoring, a loud one in that too. Cigarettes and alcohol became frequent.

Today, my laziness has escalated to mammoth proportions. I realized that it’s not just hard to come out of that laziness but it is close to impossible. I no longer have the energy I used to. I am a complete slob. I can feel the negative energy radiate from within. Few weeks ago I felt I hit rock bottom.

Physically, I now have beginners level man boobs. And when I look down my waist standing straight, I can’t see my…. toes.

And psychologically, I became an emo. Hate and excuses became supreme. Everything seemed hopeless. The future, my career, relationships and just bout everything else. Conversations with others became little. I would rot in my cesspool of downness. At one point I even thought I had a severe depression problem. I am pretty sure I don’t. Probably just a phase of attention-whoreism. I was always angry and sad. Hateful and stressed. Dull and lazy. I was mentally disgusted with myself.

And I’ve become fucking tired of it. I mean seriously, I am getting MAN BOOBS. What the fuck. If that’s not red alert, what is?

Coupla weeks ago I had a proper vacation (I will write about it in another post). A very deserved and very needed vacation. And that helped the emoness temporarily out. A vacation really makes you feel much better. Never believed it, but so fucking true.

So now, I have decided to reclaim myself. From the hate, the lethargy and the eh… man boobs.  So getting back to the gym primary  target. I don’t have a regime yet. But I know that I not going jump in straight to heavyweights.

I better start slow.


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