It was shortly after my 21st birthday and into the wee hours of the morning when it first happened.
Shooting to sit up straight in the center of my bed, suddenly I found myself overwhelmed with the sense of immense pressure pain that took over the left side of my chest and arm. The more I tried to figure out what was happening under the light of the red glow from my alarm clock that read 3:02AM, the harder it was for me to catch my breath.
Jesus, am I dying?? Falling under demon possession? It is technically “The Witching Hour“.
This is why you shouldn’t watch Horror films before bed, kids.
The only thing in that moment that made sense was to get up and begin pacing the room harder than James Brown at the Boston Garden. BIG mistake.
The feeling only intensified and left me running in blind panic to my grandfather’s room and announce that I was having a heart attack. Known to be slightly overdramatic a little quick to conclusions at that age, my gramps decided to give me the benefit of the doubt. And a Bayer, because “that’s what people his age do” in moments of this crisis. Nothing. After ugly crying through describing more symptoms, I was then rushed to the hospital where after countless questions, breathing techniques and medication I learned I had a full-blown anxiety attack.
While majority of anxiety issues can be situational, the cause of my abrupt attack was similar and a slow build. I was coming up on the one year death anniversary of my grandmother who raised me, working in a toxic environment with even more toxic friends to match outside the workplace, under financial pressure to help with extended family and eating and drinking like garbage to cope with it all. Roll it up into one, big, ugly ball of panic and SURPRISE!
Every once in a while, I like to change things up from my usual love of pizza, beer, cheese, cake, some sort of meat concoction, and more beer and go healthy on everyone’s ass.
Call it a cleanse, a guilty conscience, a desire to want to live a longer healthier life, or just become more aware of one’s body. Fact is: You eat good, you feel good. And when you feel good, you look good.
While physical fitness is important, it all truly starts from within.
And unfortunately, it can’t be done from a case of Bud Light and $5 large pepperoni.
So the last time I sat down and talked health and fitness, I’d admitted I fell off the wagon. In attempt to get my life back on the greener side of the tracks, I threw out all of my junk food and drinks, and even gave up alcohol.
Then…..my birthday month of June rolled around.
I’ve basically been drunk for 30 days straight and haven’t thought about excercise unless it involved a good twerk in to a 2chainz record.
I lived it up like it was 1986 again when I first graced this world with my hot mess presence and I’m sorry that I’m not sorry.
Now that July is here, the party is coming to an end.
Between the majority of spaghetti, enchiladas, pizza, boozery and no exercise (unless you count being on the go) I think it’s safe to say I’ve fallen off.
WHERE THE HELL DID MY SIDE OF VEGETABLES GO??!! My mini workouts?! Even my protein shakes?!
I think like most people who try and get a little healthy with it can all agree and notice a difference that when all you eat/drink is shit, all you feel like is shit. Even if it’s just taking a few vitamins, juicing, adding some broccolli, a quick run–when you go from suddenly not doing it anymore you find yourself going from feeling like this: