Gym bros

How ironic would it have been if right after I did my consistency post I didn't do another post? I thought about it, okay? This post is the only thing standing between me and sweet, sweet unconsciousness. And honestly, is it worth it? Who knows!

Today, I was done in the OR around 2pm. I got a car wash, a crumbl cookie (I know, I know), and then stopped and got some gas on the way home. Once home, I got my gym clothes on, dropped off a return at the post office and then went to the gym. On the way to the gym, I was trying to decide what I wanted to do today: cardio? weights? sob in a corner about how out of shape I am? Tough decision. Well, once at the gym, I realized my pixel buds airpod equivalent were dead. Not pleased. So, that meant I was doing weights because there was no way I could do cardio without music.

The gym I go to is down the street from a high school. It's a good 5 minute drive, but the stupid teenage boys from the school go to the gym at the same time I do and it is basically a teenage bro fest: short shorts, tight tank tops, long unkempt hair, only working on getting their muscles to look as big as possible, and insulting each other and laughing as they do. So, what I'm trying to say is: 1) I was very uncomfortable lifting in the near vicinity of them and 2) I really, really wished my pixel buds were working. I tried to tell myself, while very uncomfortable, that I have as much of a right as they do to be there and that they're not actually thinking about me/looking at me/judging me. Because, let's face it, teenage boyhood = prime example of narcissism. But, it took some work for me to stand my ground/lay claim to a lifting bench in "their" area. 

Also while lifting, I really wanted to do the seated leg press. I like to do that exercise because it makes me feel strong af since I can usually do 135 pounds on each side. A duo of teenage douche bags laid claim to it and had it for an extraordinarily long time and the second they were done a middle-aged male hopped in to use it. I went about my way and did other stuff and finally came back and asked another middle-aged male how many sets he still had because, damn it, I wanted to use it too. He said like 6 or 7. So, I went and did some seated lat pulldowns while watching him out of the corner of my eye. He was still going, so I grabbed some weights and did some arms while camped out by the leg press. He told me he only had 2 sets to go. So I waited while doing some weights. Then, once done, he asked me if I wanted him to unload the plates. He had 4 plates on each side. Each plate is 45 pounds. I only need 3 plates on each side. I said, I need three plates on each side. He started unloading them, thinking I wanted 3 plates taken off. I corrected him - that I wanted 3 plates on each side. He fixed it, but I, of course, internalized it as thinking that of course he thought this fat woman wouldn't be able to do 270 pounds. Well, sir, I can. My legs feel like jello, BUT I CAN DO THAT.

At the end of the workout, I did everything I wanted to do and was happy that I was forced into lifting. I want to get stronger and this is a really good way to do that. Had it not been for the headphone snafu, I probably would have just done the treadmill, mostly because I wanted to read my book, but also because it was my first time lifting during a busier time at the gym and I was intimidated. Well, take that, teenage douchebags/gym bros. I deserve to lift too!

I didn't take any photos today, so here's a photo from our recent Disney World trip. Zayd's face still cracks me up.

Struggling with self worth

This post is going to be a very difficult post for me to write. I'm hoping it will be therapeutic by the end. To be honest, I've been avoiding this post for a while because it's putting a lot of myself out there and dealing with a lot of things that I've been ignoring. It's going to make me incredibly vulnerable. So, if you're going to be a dick, go be a dick elsewhere, mmkay?

I'm not sure when all of this started, but things vastly changed when Nasur moved to America. For those of you who are unaware, Nasur moved from Uganda to marry me. I met him in Uganda in 2012 and we made a transcontinental relationship work for a while, but we couldn't move to the next step because the government blows hard. Long story short, we did a fiancé visa and had 90 days to get married once he arrived in Michigan at the end of December last year. It was a lot of change for me, but one of the hardest things for me to understand was why anyone would want to marry me. 

When I really sit and think about it, I just don't get it. There is nothing appealing about me. I'm selfish, I'm needy, I don't think about other people, I'm lazy, I like my own space, and the big one: I'm fat. I lack self control, I sabotage myself easily, I don't follow through when I set goals for myself, I don't work hard enough, etc. Trust me, I can go on for a looooong time. So when our 90 days started to come to a close, the doubting became really intense. I don't think I ever doubted Nasur per se, but I doubted that anyone could love me as much as he does. Nasur goes out of his way to show me how much he loves me every day and I know that he truly loves me unconditionally. But that scared the shit out of me (and on occasion, still does). Like, when was the other shoe going to drop? When was he going to figure out that I wasn't worthy of his love? When would he leave? I was fucking terrified of taking the next step because what if my heart was completely broken in the process? And when I expressed my doubts to Nasur, all he would say is that he was okay with whatever I chose as long as it made me happy. He held me every time I was completely overwhelmed and I felt like such a jerk because I knew it was hurting him too but he only cared about how much I was hurting. Long story short, as you already know, we got married. And he makes me stupid happy. And he believes in me and thinks I'm better than sliced bread. But me? I don't. And this self doubt has been pretty crushing lately. 

I've been binge eating a lot lately. I haven't told anyone because I know I'm not supposed to. And having Nasur around at home is really helpful because having a set of eyes watching your every trip to the kitchen does hold me more accountable, but those eyes aren't at work. So, that's where my bingeing has been happening. Nasur will make me breakfast at home and, depending on the day, I'll have a second breakfast. For lunch, I'll eat a whole meal and then sneak off to get a cookie at one cafe and get another one at the other cafe later in the afternoon. Then I'll check out the nurse's lounge to see what they've got there. It's stupid and has resulted in me feeling like shit about myself. I keep wondering why I can't just do this. I keep thinking about how successful I was when I had my year off between undergrad and med school and how committed I was. And then I think about how crushing the work hours are and how sometimes during a 24 hour shift, the only thing that keeps me awake is eating. And how when a surgery is challenging or I feel like I didn't perform well or didn't know how to manage something well, I'll eat or blame myself. And then I won't go to the gym because I feel good at the gym and I don't deserve to feel good about myself. It's stupid, stupid, stupid. And I can tell myself this in the midst of a binge, but I don't stop. And it's gotten to the point that the sheer amount of food I'm eating is causing me to be incredibly uncomfortable. It has really got to fucking stop. I'm hurting myself, I'm gaining weight at a stupid pace and I feel gross when I think about it.

I don't want to get into a plan to make things work. I just needed to get the beginnings of this out there. I need to start working towards change. I am willing to recognize that it's not going to be a one-post deal. I've gotta start taking small steps towards a goal that is light years away. But I do know one thing: I've got to start thinking of myself the way Nasur thinks about me. Because he thinks I'm the shit. And you know what, I can be the shit if I'd let myself be. 

Evaluating your self worth

I'll do a normal post later today (most probably - I never want to promise), but I needed to say a few things now. 

Right now, I'm kinda sad. I went to a housewarming party last night and both hosts had groups of friends that came, mostly their respective work friends. And I'm not a work friend for either of the hosts. I'm a friend who met one host in middle school and the other when they first started dating. And so I didn't really fit in. Now, I'm not usually the type of person to sit back and not talk, but as the night dwindled down, we were all couples. All of us except for me. Sitting there not coupled off made me realize how out of sync I am with the rest of my friends/people my age. I am still in school; they're getting engaged. I'm moving out of my apartment in December and will likely live at home for a little while again before going to residency; they're buying houses. I'm looking at at least another 4 years of training and working 120 hour work weeks; they're working 8-5 and doing fun things together on weekends. I just kinda feel like I missed out on some memo somewhere along the way. Was I supposed to start settling down? Am I really supposed to start considering having kids already? To be honest, neither of these things are particularly high on my priority list right now, but I feel pretty lonely. And it could be because I spend my entire day alone studying as of late, but it's kind of getting to me.

And on top of that, I evaluate myself my comparing myself to others. I know, I know. You're not supposed to do that. But, please. I was raised in America. I'm in the medical field. Comparison is second nature. And when I compare myself to these people, I feel like I'm coming up short. So, I hit the gym this morning (I didn't go Friday or Saturday) and tried to give it my all. But in the back of my mind, I'm worried that maybe being overweight is holding me back from letting me meet the people I want to meet and doing the things I want to do. Maybe the reason I'm not settling down is simple - maybe it's me. So, that's kinda hard to handle. It's kinda hard to pick yourself up and remind yourself of the reasons why you're great. It's kinda hard to tell yourself that other people's evaluation of you is not what makes you. It's kinda hard to tell yourself not to compare yourself to other people. It's kinda hard to remind yourself that you're going to be okay; that you need to do things for you; that your hard work will pay off; that struggling makes you stronger. It's a lot easier to cry and eat all the food and procrastinate on studying. But then what happens? You feel worse. So, it's up to me to wipe away the tears, and do things that make me happy and make me feel good about myself. Because I'm the one who's responsible for that. No one else.