It's time to get off the floor.

First impressions are important, so I may be taking a risk when I begin my blog with the phrase "Depression is a hellofa drug."

As anyone who has ever been depressed is sure to know, there are times when the downward spiral gets addictive, when there's nothing you can do or say to convince yourself that yes, it's time to stop crying and to get your buns off the floor and into the shower for goodness' sake.  There are times when your friends and family just seem to say, "Screw this" because you refuse to take any of their advice or make a single step towards your own recovery. It's not that you're enjoying the sadness, but you just can't seem to let it go. 

That's where I was. Most of the past few years have seen me wanting happiness more than anything, but clinging to being miserable all the same. I'd make deals with myself to live better and be happy and be in the moment and do the right things and to be kind and gracious and strong... and then I'd break my promises to myself, which made everything worse. I truly believed that I'll always let myself down and am incapable of following through on anything, let alone the quest for contentment. 

Then things just sorta changed. I started thinking that maybe I could do the things I put my mind to, and that I wouldn't necessarily fail simply because I have flaws. What a revelation! I never tried to do so many things because I always thought I was incapable. I was born with a birth defect and therefor my legs don't work quite the way they should, and I thought that's the reason I don't run. Total BS. Limited ankle flexibility does not in any way, shape, or form prevent me from running, and my legs are perfectly fine. It was just my head holding me back, again. 

I'm sure I'll delve more into the sadness in later posts, but I just wanted to give an overview here. This blog is yet another deal I've made with myself. I like to think that I'll not break the promise this time, and will keep writing about my journey from a twenty-something depressed lump to a twenty-something fit person. Maybe I'll find some happiness along the way! 

Post-workout, Biceps 9/6/12

As it is, I worked out twice this week. That's not a lot, but it was more than I could have done. I feel the delicious ache in my muscles and I remember grinning as I lay sweating profusely on the disgusting floor of the gym on Monday. That leads me to Reason Number 1 for choosing to go get what I want (Fitness and Happiness, to those of you who weren't listening): To feel sore of body, while feeling glad of mind.