I am not always moved to write, but when I heard about the suicide of Mindy McCready, I felt crushed. She was my age. She struggled with addiction. She survived a nearly fatal abusive relationship. She was wrecked, and I know what all of those things feel like.
When I heard this news tonight, my whole day came together like a puzzle, like the last piece brought me full circle.
Every day I try to do something that scares me, because that’s what I know will continually help me regain my confidence. But today I failed.
I started the day anticipating a great workout. An instructive class on kettlebells… something I hated in the beginning of my work outs, but have actually grown to enjoy. I am used to going to my small class, we call “boot camp” at the break of dawn 4 mornings a week. There are usually no more than 5 of us there. There are 2 instructors, they rotate days and I adore them both. I enjoy my mornings.
I have attended a large class there before, but being that this is a Martial Arts School, I felt uncomfortable because I was completely lost when it came to technique. Since then, I have wanted to take some level 1 classes, but haven’t due to these unbelievable battles with myself in my head. .. After all, I only go there to work out, not to learn Martial Arts (although I want that as well).
It is ironic to me, more disappointing though, because my absolute favorite aspect of my morning class is the time we spend on the bags… kicking, punching. It is the greatest workout; I feel empowered, strong. I love the feeling of being able to kick the shit out of something as hard as I can.
Speaking of power, I believe there are two sides to this revelation. I feel absolutely powerless. I feel physically weak, emotionally stripped, and my self- confidence has altogether disappeared.
I will not be a victim. I am not appealing to anyone’s sympathy. All of these consequential states of mind I find myself in, I have allowed.
I realized this morning as I left my house, water bottle in one hand, weight lifting gloves in the other, that I have not come as far as I thought. In fact, I had to lie to my kids as I returned not 2 minutes after I left, (with them knowing how excited I was for this class) for the reasons I did not go. That felt bad because if anything, I want them to know their mom is strong.
As I was walking down the street, (I can practically see the gym from my door) I saw two guys who were obviously headed to this class, gym bags on their shoulders, and I froze. I turned around and walked back to my door. I stood there for a couple of minutes telling myself it was okay. I know for sure this time it is a 101 class. Not like the last time. But then why are they here?
Living so close, I see guys like this all the time going to the gym to practice martial arts. I am just used to my routine. I think that’s what scared me, so I turned around. As I headed back up the street, I saw a man I recognized who sometimes attends the class I go to in the morning; he was just leaving the Sunday morning Muay Thai Class. He asked if I was headed to Kettlebell 101. I replied yes and asked him if there were a lot of people in there. He said yes. I panicked. I stopped. I waited until he passed. I turned around and walked back home. Again. The longest 30 seconds ever; yelling at myself in my head that this was the thing I had to today do that scared me!
What the hell am I so afraid of? I have sat in class rooms with hundreds of people in college. I graduated from college. I’ve belonged to huge gyms, I have been to jail… now, that’s intimidating. I have walked on this earth for 37 years, had two children, been married to an abusive drug addict, I never knew my father, I have a dysfunctional often nonexistent relationship with my mother, I serve hundreds of people coffee on a daily basis, I honestly believe I have been to hell and back, and yet I am too scared to walk into the same building I walk into 4 morning a week?
I feel paralyzed. And yes, at this moment, I blame him. (my ex husband) He changed me. He left me afraid. I am petrified of going into a situation I cannot control. This morning, If I only could have looked in the window first, I might have gone in. If I would have known that my fellow boot campers were in there, I would have walked in.
I came home, went to my room, and I cried. I knew how defeated I was. I actually felt the heaviness of the last 15 years weighing me down. I really thought I was beyond feeling this small.
Where is my self- worth? I know it’s in me. I know I am capable of great things. I want to be strong again, in every possible way.
The biggest irony is that I want to be a personal trainer. I usually don’t tell people my goals, yet I have talked to a couple of people about this rekindled passion. I disclosed it full knowing it will help me be accountable in
pursuing it. I guess I am intentionally scaring myself into following through with this. It’s because I know I can do it. I know I will be good at it. I want it that bad.
And now whoever is reading this can hold me accountable too.
I want to do something every day that scares me… sometimes I will fail.
I will try again tomorrow.
And the next day.