Friday, September 23, 2016

Day 2....and 4

Ok...did the other 2 of the 3 lifts to get the starting place. 

125 on the bench...WAY more than I expected.  Put 135 on the bar, I could have pushed it, but I chose to baby my shoulder instead.

Last night, Grant and I went to Westside...back squat.  Man oh man this one made me feel sad sad sad.305  and it felt heavy.  But, I had to put myself in check after a bit.  Yes it is 70 pounds less than in May, but...I didn't use a strap or a safety bar...I could get my shoulder in place.

That's progress!

I am a little sore, but I can move the arm today. 

again...progress. The total on the lifts this week? 

Dead 345
Bench 125
Squat  305

Well that's 775...I guess I can up my goal for December since I wanted 750 for the meet. I'll shoot for 800.  Or 805...

I videoed too...I am not getting as deep as I think.  Yea! video!  Good stuff to work on.
But it triggers my self loathing.  It just does.  I have an image in my noggin of what I look like...dang...that's off.

Oh well....what's that?  yeah..starting over....starting over.

Speaking of which....this is what I did last Sunday....

what's that?  A journal.

yup...I burned ALL of my journals.  I am not against fact I had journals in from the 1990's.  Recently I started looking at them...cracked off the dust and read.

It was sad.

Really sad.  The things I allowed...the things I felt for years and never fixed.

I realized that I wrote to express what couldn't be said out loud, but I think what happened in the process of putting it down was I THOUGHT it had been expressed or that I had been heard or taken care of.  In reality, I saw years and years of the same feelings of being ignored, made to feel small, being terribly lonely. 

I wondered too if I kept all these little books as some sort of proof of what I felt....not sure if that makes sense or not....but in the process of trying to insure that I knew what I felt was real, I wasn't letting it go.

I don't need the journals anymore to prove anything...I know who I was, things I felt, what was real in my experience of things.  If I hold onto these little books, it sorta feels like I am holding on to the pain. I am not lonely, I am not alone, I am not crazy, and I am not unloved anymore.

So....time to start over...again.

They burned...and I did and do feel a little lighter, and a little

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