I went to the gym again last night. I didn’t go because I wanted to. I went because there was a strong compulsion to go, a compulsion driven by the fish supper I’d eaten earlier as comfort, but couldn’t expel as OH was loitering around me.
I also went because I was disgusted with myself, and I was craving the intensity, followed by calm that burning would usually provide.
My chest is in agony from a pulled muscle but I attacked the cross trainer with gusto! It did not lift my angst, or ease the self loathing that persisted to penetrate through my blasting headphones. I could barely breathe as I struggled to hold myself together, wheezy chested and tears tricking down my face camoflauged with sweat under a peaked cap.
I attacked the spinning bike before I left until my body couldn’t muster anymore effort, and my limbs were truely exhausted.
It was not a healthy gym session. It served it’s calorie burning purpose but there was no endorphin rush, just sheer exhaustion.
I came home soaked in sweat, showered and in place of the burning I still desperately craved I swallowed 3 sleeping pills.
Still sleep eluded me. Tonight I’ll swallow 4.