I stared angrily at the scale. Where had all my hard work gone?
Four years ago I started an exercise program to get my body back in shape. Two years of steady, constant exercising later, I was feeling fit and fine -- so fit, my subconcious deemed me able to handle a huge heap of repressed childhood horror. The next two years were taken up with nothing but repairing damages done to my mind and my soul. The work was so intense I could do nothing else. Some days just making it out of bed was all I could manage. In the process I've lost all the fitness progress I made over the previous two years. My weight is back up and my stamina is nonexistant. Physically I'm right back where I started. I've got all this psychological stuff seen to but -- I know the metaphor of life being a great big spiral but I don't need it to play out so literally, darn it.
At least there's nothing else hidden in the recesses of my mind. There are still things I have trouble talking about, and one thing I can't out of respect for the privacy of another, but I doubt there's any more long-repressed unpleasantness waiting to erupt.
Unfortunately it wasn't just my body that suffered. It was also two years out of my relationship with my children. Now I have to sync up with them and repair that. That hurts. Even the parts of it that aren't difficult still hurt.
Quests of self-discovery have a higher price tag at my age.
Four years ago I started an exercise program to get my body back in shape. Two years of steady, constant exercising later, I was feeling fit and fine -- so fit, my subconcious deemed me able to handle a huge heap of repressed childhood horror. The next two years were taken up with nothing but repairing damages done to my mind and my soul. The work was so intense I could do nothing else. Some days just making it out of bed was all I could manage. In the process I've lost all the fitness progress I made over the previous two years. My weight is back up and my stamina is nonexistant. Physically I'm right back where I started. I've got all this psychological stuff seen to but -- I know the metaphor of life being a great big spiral but I don't need it to play out so literally, darn it.
At least there's nothing else hidden in the recesses of my mind. There are still things I have trouble talking about, and one thing I can't out of respect for the privacy of another, but I doubt there's any more long-repressed unpleasantness waiting to erupt.
Unfortunately it wasn't just my body that suffered. It was also two years out of my relationship with my children. Now I have to sync up with them and repair that. That hurts. Even the parts of it that aren't difficult still hurt.
Quests of self-discovery have a higher price tag at my age.
