I sit here taking a break from studying, uncomfortable and tired. Honestly, my ass itches from still wearing my pants that I wore to workout in this morning – more than 12+ hours ago. I will be honest, routinely I will work out and then go on with the rest of my day and not shower until the end. Now, don’t misunderstand, if I have things to do in the day that require some level of put-togetherness then I will shower and get my shit together. Here recently, I commonly will workout in the morning and then wait until the end of the day to shower. Especially if I have studying to do, for some nasty ass (haha get it?) reason when I don’t shower I am a little more motivated to keep studying. Now that you are thoroughly grossed out, let’s move on!
I remember in college, I lived in workout wear and also spent 3+ hours at the gym. I started college as a Pilsbury Dough girl (round and fluffy like the Pilsbury Dough boy), then I met the catalyst to change in my life. Really, this catalyst led to many decisions that will be re-told as fun anecdotes in this blog. I am not placing blame on this person, but merely recognizing a monumental shift in how I looked at things… In so many ways.
Mr. K was a student in one of the exercise degrees that worked as a student personal trainer. I timidly signed up for personal training sessions to lose weight, that was it, no expectation for anything else. Boy did I get a lot more! I began working out with him 3 days a week, initially with very little commitment. Slowly, Mr. K pulled me out of my shell showing me that I was capable of much more than I thought.
Over time I changed, my body and my outlook. I dropped a little more than 40 pounds. I became an addict. I was addicted to working out, I used it as a stress-reliever and a form of self-torture. I would workout and be leaving the gym when a friend would call to go workout, and I turned myself around to workout again. I pushed myself, too hard, in everything. I ran, I lifted weights like a guy, and I didn’t eat. And Mr. K was there at my side for all of it, I tied a huge part of my happiness at that time in my life to him. Looking back, I quickly formed an unhealthy attachment (honestly probably the reason I attach too quickly, like gorilla glue or velcro, now). I looked to him for approval for everything, and then as someone to push my frustrations on. Mr. K became my therapist, my friend, my pseudo brother, my main support, and my source of happiness. I constantly referenced Mr. K in conversations, even if they had nothing to do with him. As I plunged deeper into an exercise addiction and anorexia (I was never stick skinny), it was a constant tug of war between Mr. K and I. He wanted me to see a nutritionist, I refused for weeks and then he signed me up for an appointment. I went and was told I was only eating at best 800 calories a day and burning well over 1,000, which did nothing to change my habits and I would argue made them worse. I would eat a protein bar in front of Mr. K after a workout, to his response of “oh that’s a great power bar to eat” and immediately I would throw it away. If I was sick and told by Mr. K not to work out, he would invevitably find me at the gym that day.
Because of my new found self-confidence, I began drinking more and going out more. My clothes got tighter and shorter, cleavage showing and usually not wearing anything under skirts and shirts; I pushed the limits. Guys looked at me, they ogled me, they wanted to buy me drinks, they roofied me, they took me home, they slept with me, they sealed the deal. All the while, I continuously made sure Mr. K knew of my choices. He got to know my friends, receiving many drunk phone calls with voice mails. I remember, through a haze, times where I was with a guy at a bar and Mr. K would come up to ask if I was okay (medium size college in a small town means you know everyone that goes out). Never did I ever look at him in a sexual or romantic way (there were times where drunk M flirted, danced, and probably got too close with Mr. K), he was someone that I could play games with and I knew that he would never leave.
I never dated in college, actually to this point in my life I have never truly been in a “real relationship” (oh what the therapists would say, I can only imagine). I partially think, in part to my relationship with Mr. K. Pre-Mr. K, guys didn’t look at me and they weren’t interested. Peri-Mr. K, I used him as my constant where I could create a pseudo relationship with him like what I wanted with a guy, but still be the ditsy girl for attention. Post-Mr. K my tenacity to meet guys increased, but not for substance just for attention, trysts, and to fill a hole.
My twisted and unhealthy close-relationship with Mr. K went on for just about a year and a half. I returned from summer break and rang Mr. K up, and that was a phone call that will never be forgotten. He was taking a break from student personal training to focus on school, that I can not hold against him and never have. I was stunned, and taken aback. Where was the warning, was I not worth some warning?!? I brushed it off and probably went to workout, we would still be friends. Then I ran into him a couple weeks into school in the library, we hugged and chit chatted about summer as well as the beginning of classes. I returned to my table and broke down. That is the closest I have ever come to a break-up of any sort, and it still remains that way.
Now I hide behind fun, trust issues, fear issues, crazy quick attachment, trysts and this theory that I will never find someone. Mainly, I hide behind telling myself that I am not worth something of substance. Which I know is not true, but still I naturally get rid of the guy before he has the chance to get rid of me and I hold all men at an arms distance. Or like Mr. Z, I quick attach like gorilla glue/velcro and trick myself into believing that this will be the guy that will stick around and this will be the guy that I am worth something to, if only at least a warning. I fully recognize that the way I have met and continue to meet guys, is not one where I will find anything of quality.
I hate to say it, but I have to go. Seriously, I am itchy, I promise I shower on the regular, every day! I leave you with an apology, at least a warning about the seriousness level would have been nice. And a promise, that the next blog post will be back to the fun stories! This was kind of a look into my past, into my soul; partial understanding of why I am the way I am, fueled by coffee and a need for sleep. Until next time…
XOXO – M