I got 99 problems but a bench ain't one

After the rest day I was feeling the guilt hardcore. It didn't help that I had a case of insomnia the night before and had lots and lots of time to sit and think. If you are a friend or acquaintance on Facebook or Instagram you may realize I try to keep it fairly light hearted there. It's not that I'm trying to hide that I have any real problems, its more that I just want to try to spread a little positive. This weekend was rough mentally. I had a lot on my mind, and I didn't really have any solutions for myself other than to just sit with it. The gym tends to help me with those thoughts. I can blast some Nine Inch Nails and be angry and sad and channel those mental struggles into a physical release. So Sunday Sledding was a desperate need rather than a want.

I'm in the competition for Ms. Health & Fitness. I've been fussed at by my trainer, by a high school connection, by random strangers at the gym that I need better pictures. Part of the problem with someone who struggles with my type of mental health is that we just can't ask. We can't take up that space, inconvenience you, we don't deserve to ask you for your time. Even when I PAY someone for photos I apologize for taking up their time. I asked Hunter to take my picture by the pool a few visits ago. I asked and then quickly said never mind after he asked me where to take the photo. If he had said, sure let's take it with the pool in the back or I think those trees would make your hair stand out...maybe I would have but that one little question gave me just enough time to be embarrassed about needing something from anyone.

The next time we went he took this one. The conversation leading up to it was awkward, and I just wanted it over with as quickly as possible. People might look at me, they might think I'm conceited, my wrinkles are too big, my smile is too wonky, my eyes aren't even, are my kids that are 6 feet away behaving, people are going to think I'm not watching my kids, my stomach looks bloated, where do my hands go, where do my feet go, this is useless anyway, why are we doing this. All in the 5 seconds to take that photo those thoughts went through my head over and over like a mantra. So if I look like I've got it together, y'all I am a spicy disaster. Hot mess would imply I'm hot and I think I've been called hot once in my life and it was not by someone who meant it lol.

The moral of the story is that no matter who you think someone is, what you think they are dealing with, the image they choose to project out, there is a possibility there's some dark ugly hanging in there. Be as kind as you can. Be as forgiving as you can. If you judge (cause we all do) know that you are judging through your lens and you don't know their life, their past trauma, their current trauma. You have your morals, you have your standards, you have your rules. Just know that they are a person who has worries, concerns, fears, needs, wants, and that above all we are human and probably all a little scared. So have some grace and if you can't have grace just move on because to quote Jay-Z a little more...

"If you don't like my lyrics, you can press fast forward."