Fall down seven times, stand up eight.

I haven't blogged in a while. Well, actually that's not entirely true - I have several drafts sitting around that I either haven't been inspired to finish, or I left sitting too long and are now irrelevant. I was reading through one of these drafts, one that I'd started writing in August, and what really struck me was how happy I seemed. This particular musing was about something that is now irrelevant, but it made me reflect upon what has changed between now and then.

In short, 2018 hasn't been a fantastic year for me. Although I've had amazing experiences and been surrounded by beautiful, caring people, somewhere along the line I gave up on myself. I don't know whether it was because I haven't had consistent employment, because I lost hope in the main motivator I had for my fitness, or because I simply turned 25 and allowed a mythical quarter-life crisis to invade my mind. Maybe it was none of these things, maybe it was a mixed bag of everything, I'll probably never know.

My year so far in a nutshell.

At one point in the middle of the year something changed and I began to feel hopeful. I was waking up in the morning with purpose, because I was doing something I genuinely enjoyed. I was feeling more and more confident in myself with each passing day and felt a sense of security that I hadn't felt in a long time. Then it abruptly ended. As quick as this amazing opportunity had come into my life, it was gone. I was crushed on the inside but because I had commitments that required my attention, I wasn't able to fully crash and burn (or maybe I'm just more resilient than I realise and I'm just catastrophising). So I just went about daily life with my usual resting bitch face on, feeling hollow and malaised on the inside.

Maybe I'm just being dramatic, but it's remarkable how one downfall can set off a domino effect of negativity that seeps into other aspects of life. I didn't want to socialise, go to the gym, or leave the house in general. My sleeping and eating patterns changed and all I wanted to do was hide away at home and lay low, whilst simultaneously forcing myself to send out applications in the hope that something would come along and pull me out of this pity abyss. Fortunately something came along and it's now a matter of playing financial catch-up so while that dilemma has kind of been resolved, I am now left with the task of building myself back up emotionally.

My situation ain't so bad, and I know there's a lot of people in worse situations. My stay-at-home cat mum stint only lasted a few weeks and while I wish that I didn't have to experience it at all, I don't feel anger or resent towards anyone or anything. I'm now in a position where I can see that although my foray into that particular field was but a brief chapter in the book of this year, it has provided me with knowledge and experience that I can take along with me to inspire further chapters.

The fog of ennui is clearing and I know what I need to do physically and emotionally to get back on track to being the best darn version of myself, but I also need to take each day as it comes and allow myself to heal, reflect and move forward. There's still two months left of this year and I'm going to work towards making them great.

If you made it this far, congratulations. Here's a picture of Newman for your efforts.