After 4-5 months of laying flat on the ground after yet again being bucked off the proverbial horse, I've got a bit of an itch to take another crack at exercise again, but as always the same difficulties present themselves.
One big problem comes back to the fact that I could never find a routine that was truly sustainable. Either it'd be too boring, or require too much technique that I wasn't capable of replicating. Ideally, exercising in itself would fully satisfy me, or at least satisfy me enough to maintain the habit, and thus allow me another means to pass the time so I wouldn't be left just sitting around staring into space or napping all the time, especially when I'm too sick of watching movies/shows or playing games to try and fill in the many unforgiving moments of my horrifically empty existence.
As it is, I'm also an absolute weakling. For instance, I can only do a max of 10 pushups (maybe 15 if I really, really pushed myself) before my entire body gives out beneath me. As much as I'm physically weak, I think my low self-esteem plays a big role here too. In the sense that my subconscious mind intensifies that weakness even further, so I basically psyche myself out into actually being even weaker than I am.
As far as equipment, I've got some kettlebells ranging 15-36 pounds, an ab wheel, a couple exercise bands, and a stationary bicycle. I'm 5' 10" and currently weigh 198 pounds. At my lowest I was 167 pounds, and I managed to keep myself in the low 180s for a couple years. Lately however, I've been getting fat again because, well, that's severely debilitating depression for you, followed closely by how I've returned to overeating in a futile/fleeting attempt to fill the void.
How is someone like me supposed to stay "motivated"? I mean, seriously, just how the fuck am I supposed to do that? Then again, I guess that's the eternal conundrum that me and tens of millions of other people find themselves having to grapple with, only to usually end up on the losing end of it in the process. It's a hellish predicament. One of those many things in this world where you either do it, or you don't, with no middle ground in-between. Nobody can help you, and nobody fucking cares.
Having said all that, I really should be going to the gym for my mother's sake, since she refuses to go alone and I'm the only who could accompany her. She's pretty overweight, bordering on extreme obesity, and really needs to start taking her health more seriously. Me though, I'm too depressed, afraid, and yes I'll admit it, too lazy to go to a place like a gym. I wouldn't even know where to start at a gym anyway, plus it wouldn't be long before I'd be too exhausted to do anything. Then again, if something happens to my mother, in terms of health complications due to her lack of exercise/activity, then it'll basically be all my fault. Because my brain can barely function these days, I'm left not knowing what I can do in the face of all this, but right now it seems like I'm headed for one hell of a nasty brick wall. The kind that will probably leave me viciously regretting my current inaction. It's really a shame that realizing this and seeing that it's probably coming at some point in the future isn't motivating me that much to change my behavior. Damn it. Fuck.
I can see the nightmarish inevitabilities approaching, and yet all I do is sit here unable to respond. I should be doing everything I can to alter this tragic trajectory I'm on, but instead I just keep on doing nothing. Yet how can you draw blood from a stone? Then again, I've got plenty of blood to spare. After all, I'm a living, breathing person, who sweats and bleeds like any other. Alas, if only I were nothing more than a stone. Then I wouldn't have to be anything, or feel the agony of not knowing how much is really in my control and what isn't.
