FIT Lvls – BMI 27.7 // 84kgs
Recently, stress is ruling my headspace and it’s highly concerning.
If I had to list all the issues causing me stress at the moment it would be in this order
- Finances
- Finances
- Finances
- Physical Health
- Work
- Diet
- Sleep
Out of all of them, you can see which one is causing me the most anxiety. Money, the root of all evil they claim. The paper that has plagued humanity since the 7th Century China. The reason why my physical health has taken a hit. The reason why I’ve seen the doctor twice now, booked myself in for a neurologist session, seen an optometrist and searched WebMD far too much.
Recently, I’ve begun to self diagnose myself with a lot of things. I can feel something creep into my mind like a virus. A brain-worm called fear. Fear of losing my partner due to my lack of finances. Fear of opening the bank app to see the debt that has accumulated and has consumed my life choices. Fear of being unable to make enough money to achieve my dreams. Fear of missing out on important occasions. Fear of being unable to buy the things I want. Fear of being unable to afford to eat properly.
Fear of the Australian Taxation Office.
As I’m sitting here, writing this, listening to the Batman soundtrack, Can’t Fight City Halloween, I’m reminded that even the Joker is afraid of the IRS. The ATO has reminded me that taxation is quite obviously one of the biggest contributors to my anxiety ever devised. The sum I owe is astronomical. It’s due within two months and has forced me to completely revamp the way I live my life.
I’m now splitting my weekly paycheck in half to ensure I try and get close to the total before the deadline and I thought I could get away with committing to a payment plan, but the ATO’s interest rate is absolutely criminal. So instead of committing to that flawed plan, I’m scrambling every dollar I have to clear this debt.
How my money has spiralled so far out of control is honestly, the final wake-up call for me to get my shit together. The new job has actually given me a massive 500 dollar pay cut and has created a mind worm that won’t shut up.
The call of work is persistently nagging away at my mind now. Where once, the beauty of work at Fed Square and Melbourne Showgrounds ended the moment I left the venue, now I am constantly bombarded with calls, texts and new updates that stresses me out. They don’t arrive during normal hours either. Sometimes they hit at 7am, 4pm, or once at 11pm. It’s all horrifically stress inducing.
Throw in constant new last minute changes, additions and cancellations and the unpredictability is disturbing.
Sometimes an event for Messina will appear with only 4 days to spare and it’s just shit dealing with it. I hate it when things randomly add an extra stress element that is unnecessary. I’ve become accustomed to preparing things well in advance so that the execution of the plan is smooth and flawless. When my manager gives me random additional stress, it places a huge strain on myself, my colleagues and throws a bad look on my professionalism.
I don’t look proactive, instead I’m reactive.
The exact opposite of what I thought this job was going to be. I thought, being full time at Messina, would herald a new chapter in my life.
Instead, it has stripped me of an additional 500 dollars, given me health issues, destroyed my physical fitness further, created more uncertainty, caused more friction in my relationship and cost me valuable time.
My roster is only ever known a week in advance.
This
Fucking.
Sucks.
I can’t plan my life in advance, nor can I actually put aside time to breathe and get some much needed mental breaks. Instead I’m constantly on edge, not sure what days I can see my girlfriend, what days I can put aside for exercise and what days I can hang out with friends.
Instead, now I’m cancelling more often, I’m arriving late to scheduled meetings and I lack a lot of willpower to get up in the morning or go to bed.
This week has pushed me to an important realisation.
I have to manage my time wisely and enforce rules. I can’t be slacking off on working out or being healthy.
Because I’m not the immortal twenty-something that I was of yester-years. Instead it takes me longer to lose weight and if I continue down the bad path of not sleeping well, not eating right, not maintaining a rigorous exercise regime, it will only get tougher for me in the later years.
I have to look after myself more. Sleep earlier. Eat simpler meals, because my body can’t process things as easily. Exercise more regularly and come to grips with the fact that … I’m older now.
It doesn’t mean I can’t be in good shape or anything stupidly defeatist but it does mean … I have to come to grips with the reality of being old.
After all, it was only two thousands years ago, that the average human life expectancy was approximately around my age.
Mortality is really the big theme I’m going for here. A reflection on my health and how my systems are not quite as durable as they once were. Stress hits me harder now. Exercising hurts more. Fat builds up quicker.
I need to course correct now.
Simple as that.
And that is why the little embarrassing BMI tracker is at the top …. it’s a brutal reminder to course correct.
Because if I can’t look after myself … I can’t look after others.
~ Damocles
Damocles' Journal 