I restarted my Tumblr account today.
The Tumblr account was created with one sole purpose: to lose weight.
The account was a accountable tool I used starting back in January of 2011. At that point in my life I was unemployed and 275 pounds. I didn’t work out, I didn’t run, and I didn’t eat well. Realistically, we can just say that I was a mess.
However, I grew tired of it. My pants wouldn’t fit, my shirts were too tight in the wrong areas, and even taking self portraits with a webcam was painful. I had become that person that I said I had never become.
So, starting at the end of January I started a year long program of destroying the weight, and I’ll be honest; it worked. By fall of last year, well after a full year had passed; I was down to 225. For my frame that is an ideal weight.
Since fall I’ve packed on some pounds; moving, gym memberships, apartments, pizza, donuts, and traveling all add up over time.
My girlfriend noticed and encouraged me to get active again, and not lose track of my personal goals. That’s what started up Tumblr today.
The thing about digital devices that you leave over time and come back to can be the skeletons that still remain in them. My Tumblr account has over thirty pages to it; that’s a lot of information dating all of the way back to January of 2011.
I was still married.
Foolishly tonight I went through some archive files on the account; noting the journey that I’ve had [similar to this site]. However, the more I read the more fearful I became.
Let’s remove the Shock from the image for a moment.
Let’s remove the apartment, the job, and the future.
Get it all out of the way.
Sometimes when I talk to individuals, media, etc…I take a few moments to review the journey I’ve been on since 2011, it’s been a crazy one for sure. However, as unique as it is, it’s something I never, ever want to even come remotely close to reliving ever again.
I still get scared of repeating the past. I still fear losing everything…again. I’m terrified of messing up, screwing up, and letting people down. I joke around that frequently I don’t sleep at night; it’s overrated. The real reason I don’t sleep at night is because I don’t want to relive the life I once had, I don’t want to remember June of 2011, I don’t want to remember September; I don’t care if it is all part of ‘who I am’, I don’t want it to be.
I’m not the owner of a premier women’s soccer team, and I’m not a corporate inspector for Subway. I’m an only child who screwed up big time a year and a half ago, and I’ve had to spend the past twenty months rebuilding everything about my life. This is why stress from the day-to-day can get to me, but doesn’t scare me away.
I’ve met isolation; I’ve lived with depression, and I’ve drank from the cup of hopelessness. These are my nightmares that I hope will forever stay locked away.