Here’s the deal: I was not in a good place at the beginning of this year. I’d spent at least two months in what I considered to be a pretty deep depression. I had my good days and my bad days, and I was still functioning for the most part—but the truth is that I felt like my life had spun completely out of control (which is not a good thing for a control freak). I felt like a failure in almost every way and was walking a dangerous, self-sabotaging path that included eating all the worst kinds of foods, drinking excessive amounts of alcohol, abandoning all efforts to be physically active, and allowing a defeatist attitude to completely overtake me.
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Taking Control
Here’s the deal: I was not in a good place at the beginning of this year. I’d spent at least two months in what I considered to be a pretty deep depression. I had my good days and my bad days, and I was still functioning for the most part—but the truth is that I felt like my life had spun completely out of control (which is not a good thing for a control freak). I felt like a failure in almost every way and was walking a dangerous, self-sabotaging path that included eating all the worst kinds of foods, drinking excessive amounts of alcohol, abandoning all efforts to be physically active, and allowing a defeatist attitude to completely overtake me.
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