Bodies

Thanks 21 year-old-me for reminding me why I journal. What a place I was in. How much better and worse it’s gotten. More energy, more misery. Less money, fewer fears. Or maybe just different fears. Whatever. It’s just a trip and I enjoy tripping myself out so thanks to all the mes who wrote about their lives even when it was boring or bad or amazing. 

My back sucks still. It sucks less but it still sucks. I feel very confined in my body. Can’t really move and gaining weight because of it. I’ve reached my limit of body acceptance. This size doesn’t physically feel good and it also isn’t helping my pain. It’s not a cure-all. But it’s an undeniable part of my quality of life. The balance between being gentle with myself and actually trying to feel better in my body? Where is she? Can I talk to her?

How am I going to do it right this time? I still have no fucking clue. Quitting weed would help but in this hellscape? Sorry but naw. So I’m in a tough spot and kinda waiting for a shift. Isn’t that all I can really do? I’m working with my doc to lower my blood pressure so I can explore weight-loss drugs. God. Cringe. I hate everything about this. 

OK Briana you’re gonna figure this out. More will be revealed. Let the universe work while you do what you can. Baby steps. Small victories. Progress not perfection. 

Can you tell I’ve been thinking about going back to 12-step? Cringe on that too. 

No cringe on this ‘fit tho. Fat as fuck and all fire. Can’t stop won’t stop. Yaaaaay. (This is me saying the confident things to feel the confident feels. Don’t fail me now.)