Sometimes life sucks. But you don't.

I almost beat someone up yesterday. 

Myself.

This week really got away from me. I haven't done any yoga since Tuesday, my Instagram account feels neglected (it has feelings, and they are hurt), the house is a mess, and my eating habits have been atrocious. When I got home from work last night tired, sluggish, and full of guilt and slight panic, I got close to finishing myself off with a classic putting-myself-down tirade:

If you were better organized, you could have exercised every day. 

Aren't you the one telling people to get up early for their passions? Why haven't you done it?

Look at the mess here. 

Are you reverting back to your carb-addicted days? I thought you know better? Why are you so weak and lazy?

And that's just the warm-up. My inner critic was ready to pounce, to kick her opponent who was already on the floor, and finish her off.

But then, thankfully, a knight in shining armour appeared and saved me: Compassion. For myself. Who woulda thought?

I sternly told my inner voice to shut the hell up and cut me some slack. She was so shocked about this outburst, she was speechless. Perfect. Exactly what I wanted.

Here is the thing: We can't always win at life. Some days (or weeks) it will get the better of us. All we can do is roll with the punches, and remind ourselves that we do the best we can.

Sometimes pizza wins out over salad, a third (or fourth) glass of wine seems like an excellent idea, and Netflix looks so much more attractive than the yoga mat. It's okay. We are human, and humans are flawed individuals, stitched together with good intentions. (Who said that? I've always loved that quote.)

What's interesting is that I noticed several unusual culprits that triggered my guilt complex, and that I ended up having to avoid in order to save my sanity:

Instagram. 

Usually my motivation and cheering squad, I found that seeing everybody [I follow] doing #yogaeverydamnday did nothing but make me feel bad about myself. Sorry Insta, I needed a break from you these last few days. It's not you, it's me.*

*It's totally you. 

Self-help books.

Maybe I'm doing it wrong, but self-help books more often than not make me feel inadequate. I'm currently reading Better Than Before, which is very popular and praised as a life-changing and life-improving book. 

All it did yesterday was making me regret not using my "fresh slates" in a more productive way: Both the new year and the new work schedule were prime opportunities to start healthy new habits, and what have I done? Eaten my weight in pizza, not worked out, not de-cluttered, and now worried that not only did I miss the boat on great new habits, but on the contrary, having started on a path of bad habits that will be nearly impossible to break. This book does terrible things to my mental health.

Other people.

The whole world seems to be on a detox or Whole 30, and I'm just over here, not doing these things.

Which is of course totally my fault choice, but still - I have healthy eating-FOMO. 

I blame it all on leftover Christmas chocolates and winter. 

Let's leave on a positive note, okay?
Anybody can start fresh on January 1st. (Well, apparently not. I can't. But you know what I'm trying to say.)
But have you heard that January 17 is the new New Year? I'm totally re-starting healthy habits today.
I packed a salad for lunch, brought Greek yogurt and a grapefruit for a snack, and finished all the chocolate in the house. Ha!
January 17, you and I got this.

Happy Sunday!

    

 

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