I was an anorexic for six years of my life. Then I modified my obsession to count carbs in stead of calories. Physically I was fit and healthy, mentally I was still very ill. Then an emotional trauma bitch slapped me into a hole of depression and PTSD. I stopped caring about myself and became physically unwell and unfit too. I didn't have the finances for the gym, the space to workout at home or the self esteem to be in public. Nor did I care enough about myself to eat good foods. In short, I got fat and lazy and didn't care. Now, my mental health is managed and I am ready to start looking after myself properly again. Then I got a virus that kept me out of college for a few weeks. The virus left body but it also left me with a terrible fatigue. 3 months and several doctors visits later and I no longer leave the house without a crutch in case I collapse. The lack of mobility has seen me get fatter and I'm sick of it. I'm headed to uni in September and will have access to a full gym. I will not let this illness control me, I will control it.

I often recall the days when I was at my prime fitness level. I loved the whole lifestyle. The energy I felt was like nothing I've felt before. I was invincible, I could do anything. I loved the routine, the food prep and exercise logs. I loved the aches that told me, I worked hard and did something worthwhile today. I loved dripping with sweat and tasting the salt on my lips and I loved the hot shower after. I loved buying new exercise clothes and admiring how good I looked. I loved shopping for vitamins, minerals, nutrients, supplements and protein bars/shakes. I loved it all and I miss it like hell. I want it back.