I know I'm a quitter. Don't worry, I'm seeking treatment.

I have to admit, I'd pretty much given up on this blog. In the past couple of months, I've pretty much given up on a lot. I can blame it on finals or work or whatever, I just gave up. I'm a person that never completely finishes something and is a quitter. It's one of the worst feelings in the world.
I've been writing a novel for the past five years that I can't seem to finish. I've had my pole for over a year, I've barely gone past I was last year. Started the gym again last month, not a single pound lost. All these things just add to the list of non-accomplished.
I knew these things wouldn't be easy but I can't even put my own happiness first. The old line still lives, "You can't love someone else until you love yourself." That is true and I know it is, yet I'm too stupid to realize it. I'm that person that will call someone on their bullshit quicker than they can finish the thought but I can't call myself on my own shit.
I give myself slack on my gym membership going to waste at the moment since I'm getting over the flu but what about all the other days I'm not sick?
60 minutes a day is amazing on a Treadmil. 30 minutes is great strength training, and maybe a couple of 60 minute pole sessions during the week would do wonders. There are 168 hours in a week. How is it that I can't spend 5 of those hours on a Treadmil, 2 1/2 a week strength training and 2 hours a week pole dancing?
I'm lazy. I know I am that's how I got 220lbs, well being lazy and over eating, big time. I still continue to and I don't seem to be stopping any time soon.
For awhile I only worried about being in recovery and that was all. As long as I was sober, I was okay. Now I can see that just because I was once an addict doesn't mean I need to only focus on that for the rest of my life. I have another addiction and it's to food. I need to get over this addiction like I did the other one. This is more destructive to me now and it needs to be taken care of. The confidence I had earlier this year is now faded. I don't feel confident most days.
I knew I would and will never been a skinny mini but I couldn't even fallow through with toning what I have. I know part of it is that I have no clue what I"m doing. But still, I'm not taking the extra step to improve myself. Why can't I make myself happy?
Hopefully a new year will solve my current problem. I hope.

I'm sorry to my shameful addiction

Recently I've gone through a rough patch which has made me lose everything from focus to hope in my life. Thus is why I have no updated. I didn't want to abandon this blog so quickly but I did and it wasn't meant to be.
This happens to me a lot. I will begin something and go into this new adventure head first but I quickly lose interest. It happens all the time, never fails. But it's one thing I'm trying to change.
I kept thinking that I needed to have this blog be completely about pole dancing, food, and my adventure in it. But I'll probably end up adding certain things that help me. Some posts will be a random ranting about what is going on my life but the next post could be able my obsession with food.
Lately I went into a deep depression. It doesn't happen often but when it does, I dive deep. When something doesn't happen as I want it or something throws me for a loop, then I get depressed. It's a need to have control and right now I feel as I don't have any control over my life.
I'm miserable at home, I'm miserable at work. I love to write but I'm so miserable I say so what? What's the point? I won't finish it. I'm only making myself give up before I have the possibility to get half way.
When I get deep into a depressing state I result back to my addiction. I may have never been addicted to drugs or alcohol but I was addicted to self-mutilation. This addiction plagued me from the age of 15-22. I started when a classmate told me about it. At first yes it was about attention but then it turned into an addiction. I'd buy razors to crack them open and save the blades under shampoo bottles, only mine because my dad or brother would never touch girly shampoo. Or the closest I came to my dad finding about was when he discovered all his razor blades gone from his toolbox. He's a machine so he had replacement blades for his retractable blades or razors to remove window tint. I thought no one knew but my brother discovered I was cutting and then the whole family knew. No, I never had an intervention. My boyfriend helped me stop.
Stopping somethings for a boy isn't always a bad thing. He told me he'd leave me for good if he discovered another cut on my body. I didn't want to be without him, I just got him back. After awhile of being cut free I started to see things about it. I made myself uglier by scaring myself. I still have that mindset where I think "oh it's not that bad. I never got near anything that could hurt me. I stayed away from my wrists. My blades were always new and clean. My wounds were cleaned after and taken care of with Neosporin. I did it safely." There is nothing safe about hurting yourself.
I'd always say there was no real reason why I started to cut myself but now I know exactly why. It's exactly why I gained so much weight in elementary school. My mom left. I didn't have her in my life anymore. I did some but it wasn't much. My parents, especially my dad had such bad blood between them that my dad always had an attitude and my mom felt uncomfortable and unwanted. I understand. I love my dad and thank him and my brother for raising me but I gained a lot of hatred toward my mother because of my father. I'll never tell him that. Maybe my life would have been different.
I never thought she left because of me. I knew her and my father were no longer getting along and I knew she had her affairs and she wasn't the biggest fan of men anymore. Sometimes it takes a long time to discover what really makes you happy.
When she left, I started eating. I gained weight. Then in seventh grade I was already in an 18. I was so ashamed so I stopped eating and went down to a 13/14. In high school with my first boyfriend, I went back up to 18.
I've discovered that I always put myself second although I'm always working on myself. I'll do anything to make others happy but I don't make myself happy. That turned into a whole new addiction with shopping but I smashed that quick.
My personality is addictive. I've done bad things in the short life I've had. Lied to make myself sound better. Stolen from strangers. Been a total bitch. I don't want to be that person.
I want to find that one thing that I'm perfect with. I'm a genius at. That one thing people will look at me and say oh yeah, she knows everything about that. This is what I love about pole dancing. Pole dancing is physical, confident gaining, sexy, and artistic. Now it's up to me to do this for myself, to make myself happy.