mental health


June 11, 2021

i think obsessed would be a negative approach on describing my love for fitness. 

negative but entirely appropriate.

i have always loved being active.

since i can remember that was my thing.

i am not going to go on describing how i was a tom boy when i grew up because that is a story, for some reason every other girl finds the need to tell.

What I am going to tell you is that my anxiety took away the pleasure and independence from my passion. I don’t think I realised I loved it so much until I mentally was unable to fathom the strenuous word, exercise.

I resented people who committed entirely to their body.

Who set physical goals and were able to meet them.

I resented athletically fit people because it symbolized a mental strength I was no longer capable of.

For two and a half years my focus was entirely on my mind.

Rushing, racing & never ending destructive thoughts.

I tried to mimic the habits of my own once mentally sane self.

A pathetic approach to a helpless situation.

I signed up to countless challenges, physical routines, memberships and fitness programs.

The commitment, the pressure and social involvement left me too anxious to complete any of them.

The personal disappointment created mental strain and depression.

After about two years it kind of clicked.

I understood what my mind was doing & the connection between being physically & mentally capable.

The obvious.

I was not mentally capable at the time and I did not know how to get back there.

The lesson.

I was still physically capable, unmotivated, scared and anxious but I was still physically capable.

So I took to what I knew best.

What had always been my thing and I replaced what was taken from me.

My passion and my independence.

I took baby steps.

I set my alarm & entertain my mind, subconsciously letting it know I am going to challenge it physically in the same manner it was hurting me mentally.

Some mornings I would sit on the floor & go back to bed.

Other mornings I had the strength to deal with the internal banter.

I would prepare myself for runs which turned into walks, for hikes which turned into drives.


& slowly my intentions matched my actions.

I would challenge myself, force myself, completely and utterly exhaust myself, just so my mind would finally shut up.

Just so my racing heart beat & body could finally be in rhythm.

The sweat, the muscles, the blisters, the endurance, the pace.


it wasn’t strength, it was control, pure, obsessive and total mental control.

Thats me now, that has been me for the last nine years.

I work out every single day, it is my addiction, it is my form of medication.

It provides me a feeling of control and self worth.

It gives me routine and purpose.

We as humans are pre programmed to believe nothing is working until we can physically see results and for obvious reasons, you will not get a massive display of physical results when dealing with mental illness.

so I created my own.

I combined the two, physical activity and mental insanity and thats when I started connecting my physical results to mental progress.

when I started associating my endurance with relaxation, my strength with determination, my speed with power and self worth.

thats when I chose to look at my physical goals as mental rewards.

thats when I realised I had power over something that had once made me so powerless.

thats when I realised,

its in our perspective,

its in our desire to heal,

that will bring you out of suffering and into coping.

it is that moment when your mind and body will finally connect.

it is the moment when you again will find your balance.


i love you always,