Progress, Not Perfection

Well, I’m coming out of a slump, and wanted to be transparent about the struggle. I feel like it’s a good way to hold myself accountable and to learn and grow from my mishaps. 

I’m still undiagnosed with my mental health issues, but I suspect that I have manic depression. I have days or weeks where I’m mentally motivated and positive and manic. I want to accomplish all the things, and feel like I’m moving forward. I hit my goals and then some, and I feel good about myself. This is followed by a “downswing” of anxiety and depression. I am anxious and immediately overwhelmed for all that I have to do, but do not have the motivation to do it. My brain gets irrational; I’m on edge, and the littlest thing will send me spinning into picking an irrational argument, crying for hours, or just wallowing. I don’t meet goals, or even try. That was my last week. 

I didn’t workout. I found myself fighting with my partner over topics we’ve already extensively discussed and concluded. I cried a lot, and I turned inward into my self hatred. Self doubt, shame, and guilt followed. I could feel the progress I made on eating better and exercise slipping away and I felt hopeless. I binged, I ate out, all the while feeling sorry for myself. 

This is a cycle that is my life. It’s a nightmare. I am actively working to help myself. But this is my reality. 

This time was a little different though. This time, I forgave myself. And I fought back. I started talking to myself how I would want to talk to someone like me. I listened to the things my partner and family and friends were telling me. And I told my anxiety to fuck off. 

This week I went to the gym and kicked ass. I left drenched in sweat and it was an amazing feeling. I also took photos. I sent them to my mom and my partner. And I could SEE the progress in my body. That was the first time I’d noticed my slimmer face and my smaller belly. 

This is always so hard. You notice the changes on yourself much later than everyone else will. I had hit a couple of milestones: a coworker I don’t normally see said I looked like I’d lost weight, and I officially fit into a smaller pant size. The scale told me I am down 20 pounds. But I didn’t see it. 

So when I took these extremely vulnerable, nude photos and saw the difference, it lit a new fire. My belly is still larger than I want. But it IS smaller than when I started. My face is noticeably thinner. My muffin top in my pants is smaller. That was so EXCITING. 

My partner and I always say, “Progress, not perfection”. 

So for this cycle of manic depression, the progress is that I stopped talking detrimentally to myself. And I also have a couple new tricks in my bag as motivators! One, are the photos. If you’re reading this, you probably saw them. This is the biggest motivator for me. I do step on the scale every so often. But the scale fights me all the way and it is definitely not a good indicator of my progress. I fight for every pound. But I also took measurements. I do an updated measurement next week, and I know I’ll see progress. 

Also, I joined the podcast listening world earlier this year to get me through my long days in corporate America. Through a true crime podcast (My Favorite Murder) that I listen to now regularly, they recommended a podcast called Half Size Me. Heather Robertson has lost 150 pounds and has a weekly guest who discusses a myriad of weight loss issues. Everything from exercise, eating habits and disorders, struggles, etc. 

The only way to fail is to give up. And I just started listening to this podcast, and it’s already helping my negative self talk, because I have motivational conversations in my ear all day. It’s opening up a bunch of blogs and resources of those who have had similar struggles. It’s really helped me realize that I’m not alone. 

In the end, I’m still here. I’m still showing up. And I have a renewed motivation from places I never knew existed. 

Thank you for reading.