Sometimes I Just Get Mad

    I am a firm believer that you don't get to complain about the things that you do to yourself. Therefore I try my hardest to never complain about my schedule or the fact that some days I would just like to call a time out on life. But there are some things that aren't in my power to control, and sometimes despite my best intentions, I get mad and frustrated and wish that it could be different.
  My entire life I have been athletic and perhaps a bit of an over-achiever. I love pushing myself and feeling my body respond the way I want it to. I've been blessed to be a "natural" athlete. In fact, while I was in the hospital, I spent a great deal of time (thanks to my buddy Emily) punching the pads and burning off frustration. Boxing was a form a therapy.
  It seems as if mental illness is trying to steal this from me too. I am on quite a little cocktail of medications, and I am pleased that we seem to have found a combination that works. But I am not pleased with the fact that I have put on weight because of them, which in combination with everything else seems to have slowed me down. It is hard to feel confident in the ring when you feel like you are a cow, plodding along. Because I have lost confidence in myself, I haven't been improving. Some days it is just easier to stand there and take the punches then believe that I can do better.
  But now I am mad. I don't want to lay down and give this up. I'm not going down with out a fight (pun fully intended). I may be chunky, and I may do a great imitation of daisy the cow sometimes, but dang it I am a boxer. I am tired of listening to the voice that says I'm too old, or too slow, or on too may medications. I am not delusional. I know I will never be the next million dollar baby. I don't want to be. I just want the chance to prove to myself that I was good enough, that I didn't let any excuse hold me back.