Still Falling

Tonight I feel peace. Peace that all will be well. In every single aspect in my life.

I've really struggled more than normal these past couple weeks. Satan just really sucks. But OBVZZZ. Lawlz.

But in seriousness, I had the opportunity to enter the temple my third time in my life yesterday. I went in frustrated. Upset. Angry at everyone at everything. It's not recommended that you enter the temple under such terms at all, but I knew that I needed to go. I could feel how closed my mind was to everything. To every spiritual beam that was trying to pierce into my very being, but I wouldn't let it. I was so sad. So hopeless. I felt like How dare he (he being God) leave me all alone to deal with this, with no tools for my mind to fight this. Because it is my mind. My mind that has controlled for so long. I was, and still am, just tired. 

So tired. 

Too tired to fight back the battles life has faced me with that purposely enter to make me stronger; but here I was, succumbing.

My mother, bless her heart- told me that I had to help her out. I had to help myself. I had to fight this. To the death, she said.

I wonder sometimes why we hang on to the negative. I know there are positive people in life, guaranteed millions of them exist. But I honestly think that the negativity in our minds triumphs over the positive for most of us. What is it about sadness that is so...

alluring?

I realized a long time ago that I'm afraid to let the sadness go. I feel that's its all I have. I don't have many friends. I'm behind in school, and wasn't doing too great. I had no idea where to go in life, who was to come in it. I can point out so many negative things-but that just proves my point;

Why?

So I'm going to make more of an effort to help myself. To literally lift these exhausted muscles and move. Keep moving. Allow my brain to absorb more sunlight than darkness. Because I can't...I can't live like this anymore. You can't help those who don't want to be helped.

Well, I want to be helped. Truly helped.
I need to remember my goals but also remember there are other aspects of life to concentrate on. I can do this. Today I went to CrossFit and did a really, really hard Hero WOD. It was hard! And I did it! I felt good all day today until It was time to dress in real clothes (NOT exercise clothes) and go to my younger brother's Football game. I struggled. This shirt made my arms thick, this didn't hide my rolls, this one squeezed my hips, so on so forth. Dressing up has always been a struggle for me, because when it comes to my appearance, I've never really ever, truly loved the human being looking back at me from the mirror. 

But I will. One day, sooner than later, and it's coming. I can't wait.

There is something so poetic about struggles. There's virtue in shared difficulties. I think that's one of the greatest aspects of humanity. Even though we feel alone, we never are really alone in this world (all religion aside). Because we ALL struggle. Not one is the same in degree or likeness...I love it.
I find sadness at times, poetic. Besides the Mumford and Sons' ways with their words of heartbreak, theres beauty in trials. I may not necessarily see mine at the moment, because I'm still fresh from the lecture that actually helped this weekend from my mother, but I'm trying. I trying to understand how there's beauty in such pain all at the same time.

I know my thoughts are all over the place. It's ok thought because this is for me, not really anyone else.

I really think that I will be ok. That I'll be able to breathe easy one day and not hyperventilate at my reflection. I will reach my goals. No one can say otherwise; it's not in my nature to do so. But I will do so in balance.

I hope to see things in a more positive light. I look forward to the day I can smile and really, deeply, truly and sincerely mean it. To wake up to sunrises even on the dreary days.

Sometimes I don't know where my Heavenly Father is. Well, I think it's about time I went to go find him, don't you?

I'm still falling...but not for long.

Untitled.

So this blog is basically my diary. I write more in this than my actual, leather-bound, red journal sittingg at home, pages waved by the endless amounts of crushes, love stories, and teenage temper tantrums of my youth.

It's kinda sad, really. To think that I've taken more to the technological advancements of writing than good old fashioned, pen and paper sort of style. I actually prefer the second; I just don't feel it. And you gotta feel it in order for the magic to happen.


I've shared bits and pieces of my life story-of some struggles I've had. But I never really touched on the now. I feel like I personally want to write, or technically...type my frustrations out. It's not necessarily for attention or even to vent; it's a combination of both. I write this hoping that people who struggle with the same issues will find me so that maybe we can all help each other. I'd like to know that I'm not alone, to know that there are other similar yet entirely different struggles that each bring a different shed of light to the table.

I've struggled with body image since I was a little girl.

I can't exactly pinpoint the exact moment when I started combining hatred with my body and sight. I went to a counselor for some time who helped me unearth the deepest parts of my memories, and the reasoning behind the dark thoughts of my past. There was an event that led me to come home and look at my body differently than I ever had before. I can't remember exactly what happened, all I know is that I was teased.
Ever since moving from Hawaii to Washington, I literally hated school. I was never popular, nor necessarily the "geek", but I wasn't cool. I was never picked last for kickball, but I wasn't first. I wasn't noticed by boys, but I was noticed enough to let them thrive off my insecurities. I reeked of them. I was timid, shy, and didn't have comebacks. Don't get me wrong, I had friends to eat with at lunch and people to say hi and smile to while passing the halls, but it was all superficial.

Anyone ever remember the scene in Mean Girls where Lindsay Lohan's character eats lunch in the bathroom stall? I've done that once in high school. I just didn't have any friends. Nor did I have the confidence and self esteem to really, truly try. 

I finally confronted my issues of self loathing the summer after my freshman year at BYU-Hawaii. I had come home 20lbs heavier. In high school I weighed 150. I hated it then, but how I wish I could be there now...
I visited counselors and was put on depression pills. I remember the day I was diagnosed as depressed-I felt like I should've been thrown into an insane asylum. Because that's exactly what I had thought it was-crazy, uncontrollable anger, sadness, and just pure lunacy. But it's not like that at all. I quickly learned that more people were depressed and on medication than I realized.

Life is hard. And for those who lack religion, faith, or something of a higher power to hold on to, hope can be hard to come by. Why am I alive? Why am I here? What am I supposed to do? Where am I going?

Thankfully, I had the knowledge of the gospel. I knew Heavenly Father loved me, had and has a plan for me. It's still a tough thought to convince myself of, but the knowledge and testimony is there.
I have certain goals I want to reach in this life. Particularly, pertaining to fitness. Going through this journey has shown me who my true friends are, who the naysayers will be and who will have my back. I remember that after telling people how all I wanted was to be lean, to have tonage, a six pack, ripped delts, basically just MUSCLES- they quickly roll their eyes and laugh. "Why?" , their ridiculed voices would say. Sarcasm dripping from their tone, so quick to tear down my dream. I want to be the best version I can be. To be able to help people reach their own goals. I truly believe that when you look good, you feel good. When you feel good, you do good. And when you do good, everyone else wonders, catches on, and the entire process is repeated in a never ending cycle of kindness, self discovery and confidence, which adheres to happiness.

I don't want to be good, ok, or even reach 75% of my potential. Why not go all the way? I see people who look at themselves in the mirror, are not necessarily thrilled but satisfied. "It's ok to not go for that promotion. I'm fine where I am." "It's ok that I have love handles and a chubby waist. I'll never be able to wear a bikini, but that's just how I am." "It's ok to settle for my degree. I'll never have the time to get a higher one anyways."

WHY. Why must people settle? Why do we find ourselves accepting the mediocre? Why don't we go for the GREAT?

Fitness and weight loss/health is a touchy subject, because for one: people don't like being told the truth and two: to hear that it's possible to reach these goals is just preposterous, right? I mean, no one actually thinks that getting toned and slim is attainable? It's only for those _____ people.

My goals have been laughed at, mocked, and torn down by those who don't think I can do it. Why?

I had a trainer, my first trainer ever and the first woman besides my mother who believed in me tell me something I'll never forget. When I told her about the endless naysayers to my self-improvement cause, she told me "The only reason why anyone tells you that it's impossible is because they don't believe that they can do it themselves."

THAT'S why.

 So I'm on a journey to accomplish my life's biggest trial and reach a goal that I know if I can reach, I'll be able to do anything.
Anything. 

 Fast forwarding to now- man it's tough. I eat clean, do cardio a minimum of 3x a week, isolated strength training twice a week and crossfit three. I've been at this for months, and nothing has budged. Literally. I've seen my measurements, and done my bod pod. I've weighed myself (although I don't like scales, nor do I trust them) and nothing. I dont understand....if anything, I'm getting a little bigger. My clothes are tighter. Something just isn't right. I'll be off my medication in about a month, we've been weaning me off because for one, I've gotten emotionally better....it's time for me to turn around and face the music. And two, the pills we believe made me gain weight. Well, I'm literally at the last set of dosage. You would think with decreasing, my body fat would decrease.

I went to my natureopath last week and shes checking my hormones. Thyroid, cortisol...all the goods.

Something is just not right. The puzzle isn't completed. No matter what I do, it's not working....what else can I do? I have no idea where else to go, who else to see...my mom says to only concentrate on the things I can control. She's absolutely right; it's just hard.

I'm really trying. But man, this. Is. HARD. Lately it's been really getting to me...because it's been years of hard work and no results. Literally, nothing.

Just focus on the positive without giving up at the same time.


Wish me luck. 'til better days.