Sunday and I am brought hot water as I wake up. I weigh myself as my first Sunday task. I come in at 99.7 kilos, a slight decrease from last week. Hopefully this will continue by small increments of the weeks to come. Before getting my day going I take my vitals and then get into my training kit. The plan is to go to the gym to both get out and to train differently. While my partner prepares the evening crockpot I cast up my vitals data from the last few days. It appears the arithmetic of the vitals is on course to be average again. After a short interlude, we drive to the gym.
On arrival we have to produce our gym numbers as the entry system has gone down. The gym lounge was full, the pool was full and there was a spin class going on. I go to the changing room to look for a locker. The changing room is packed, even the lockers without padlocks on have clothes stuffed in them, I begin to try and get organised and suddenly realise I cannot do this. I grab my jacket and retreat to the lounge, there are no sofas left just hard chairs and small tables, one of which I grab along with a hot chocolate from the bar. Hot chocolate is one of my go to calmers. I caste around for a distraction and write some lines about how I am on my phone and then try to find a way to keep them. Out of lines I watch football on my phone with my ear buds in. I manage to avoid the stuff around me.
I can’t do this, I’ve panicked. I got into the changing room And things changed. So many people, No privacy, I can’t face this. I retreat, To the lounge. Is this how I am now? Scared to share A space, The sight of my body, The length of my hair, My reduced state. Hot chocolate Ordered and runaway with. I tip tap on my phone, Hoping the Dementors leave. I sip at my cup, hopefully. I wait for my partner To rescue me. The gym, once a haven Is now a bear pit of vulnerability, The teeth and Claws of death everywhere. Another toke of chocolate Another line, Perhaps this is how I survive. Out here requires energy, And I am spoonless. I feel stupid, Weak and a freak, Most of all I am alone, In the worst possible place. The voice inside says “self pitying bastard” And I cringe from self. No amount of arithmetic And vitals being right Makes it go away. I smile as I realise I do not know how to keep this. No idea how I can end this, I’m scared. 366 28-01-2024 David Lloyd Gym.
My partner arrives from her session and takes me home. I try to down load my words from the gym, which I manage eventually. I settle down to watch football, which I go on doing through to the evening, the evening meal, and then finally through to Call the Midwife. I draft the blog. This mornings gym experience has thrown me. I never thought I could get this skittish or self conscious. Of course I need to regroup and pick other times to go to the gym, but I need to pay attention to this as a warning of how I it can be. It clearly takes me more energy and structure to keep myself function as I wish to. This is food for thought. In the meantime there is a night to get on with, meds to take and tomorrow to plan for, like a Tesco order, booking my next 28 day jab and preparing for our over night Monday guest. Its been an unsalutary day.
