I can’t do this.
Every time Chelsea tells me to take it down an inch and hold, I roll my eyes. I’m telling her in my head, “No Chelsea, no. I will not take it down an inch.” And then she has the nerve to tell me to step an arms distance away from the bar and hinge over like a T, and all hope is lost at that point. I last a good 30 seconds before my T becomes an I, and I’m standing there wiggling my legs around from the burning.
I’m a quitter.
And I have absolutely no shame in that. Because the second I start feeling pain or discomfort, I’m ready to give up. I’m ready to stop whatever is hurting me or whatever feels uncomfortable and go back to what I know will make me feel ok again.
So in this season- where everything feels like it sucks- I am so beyond ready to give up.
I’m over it. I hate it. I’m ready for things to be happy and lighthearted again.
It’s been months of feeling sad and alone. Months of not having anyone to call after work or before I go to bed. Months of rolling around at night, kicking the sheets off and on, and waking up every other hour. Months of feeling like a part of me is missing, and there’s this gaping hole in the middle of my soul. Months of waiting and nothing is changing.
And if this season of my life were anything like Bar Method, I’d just stop doing the hard thing and go back to the less challenging position, but I don’t think I can. I don’t think that’s an option.
As easy as it would be to make a phone call or send a text, I don’t think I have that choice. It’s not like class where I can take a reset break and then continue on with the exercise. This time I can’t quit no matter how painful or uncomfortable I’m feeling. I have to keep going through the thing that hurts the absolute most.
And I can’t do this.
All day long I’ve felt like I wanted to explode. Like at any moment my head and my heart would just combust with too many feelings. It’s so hard when doing the thing you’re supposed to be doing also means doing the thing that sucks the most.
I know that God is stretching me. Transforming me into exactly what He wants me to be. Watch me roll my eyes as I tell you that I know God is working through me. He is crushing the grapes to make new wine. He is putting pressure to make the rocks turn into diamonds. He is doing all the things those cheesy Pinterest Christian quotes say when you search “God” and “rough times.” But does it have to be so excruciating…
You bet I have prayed over and over again asking God when will this end. You bet I have asked Him when the hell am I getting out of this tunnel. You bet I have demanded to know what’s happening next. And you already know that God has given me nothing.
Because I’m the kind of person who sees what a product looks like and tries to set it up without the directions. I’m the person who sees what they want and gets it without thinking about how much it costs, do I even have the money for it, or thinks about whether or not there is something in my closet that looks exactly like this, therefore is this necessary. God knows that if He even gave me a glimpse of what came next that I’d try to run straight forward towards it without thinking twice about even consulting Him. So, I get nothing.
Which means these next steps look torturous and confusing. They will continue to be painful and uncomfortable. I will probably cry much more than I already have. Who knows, I might even bump therapy up to twice a week instead of once. Everything is going to continue to hurt.
That’s where I’m at right now. Maybe I can do this.