When sibling rivalry goes bad

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If you have a sibling your probably understand the unspoken competition that is forever between you. If you don’t have that you are lucky! I have three siblings. I have an older step brother (who I look up to). I have a step sister who is the same age as me (we don’t really get along that much anymore). I also have a little biological sister (pain in my ass but I still love her). My little sister is who this story is about.

Let me give some background on the two of us. If you ask me, or basically anyone else who knew us growing up, I was the athletic one of the family.  We both played sports but I PLAYED the sports. I loved sports and thrived from them. She did them but we never saw the same passion I had. The funny thing was, genetically she was more built for sports. My sister has a naturally athletic body type. I’ve watched the girl eat mac and cheese for breakfast and she still has abs. She is naturally muscular. I on the other hand, I watch what I eat /workout a ton and will never have abs. I am strong but I have to really work hard to get there.

My sister works at a gym (well 2 gyms) and is studying to be a personal trainer. I have to mention she got one of those jobs partially because of me.

Side tangent: A guy I was friends with in high school is the manager of said gym now. She  ran into him on day and recognized him. He has a very unique name so she asked him if he knew me. He said yes and they started chatting and he helped her get hired at his gym.

She now seems to be convinced that she is the only in the family that is allowed to be fit/ athletic. She also swears she has always been the better athlete in the family. NO WAY!! It has become increasingly obvious that she is very jealous of the fact I’m working out and getting stronger. It started with little side comments with her trying to give (aka pushing) advice on me about how I should work out. I just went along with it. Around Christmas time is when it turned into passive aggressive comments about how I’m not that great. Example :

Aunt: oh Meghan be careful the baby is heavier than he looks.

Grandma: oh don’t worry Meggie is a lot stronger than she looks. She’s been working out a lot. How much can you lift now meg?

Sister: (audibly under her breath ) not much…….

She also would text me inquiring how much I could lift. I refused to tell her because I knew she wanted to do more than me and would turn this into a competitive thing.

I thought she had dropped it until I got a long text from her. At first it seemed like a sincere “I’m proud of you ” text, but at second glance I quickly realized it was yet another passive aggressive jab. She used phrases like “For what it’s worth”, “so many health benefits to that if done correctly”, and “your friend seems like he knows what he’s doing”. It was well done. It had to re-read it a few time because I couldn’t decide if it was nice or not. I sent a screenshot to my friend who very quickly said, “NOPE! That message is a low key jab and she’s trying to act better than you”. I  called the final decider, my mom, and told her about the message. She confirmed my suspicions.

Apparently, my sister in fact had tried to out lift me. She tried to jump up 40lbs from her max weight. Even people who don’t lift would tell you that’s stupid. My mom wouldn’t tell me exactly how much she tried to do, then again I don’t care. This isn’t a competition. But, the text she sent was basically what my mom said (and or yelled) to her just repeated to me in less of a lecture form. It was supposed to be sincere but her subconscious aggression came out in it.

I try my best to not share my exact weights when posting on social media now. I did mess up and post my New Years goals, which included weights I wanted to hit. I think that’s why she was pushing herself the way she did. She wanted to top my goal weights for THE YEAR in ONE DAY. This all made me sad and resulted in me having to block her on most of my social media. I have started posting fairly regularly about my fitness journey because I’m proud. I’ve worked very hard for the last 8 months and it’s becoming very noticeable now. I don’t want her to hurt herself because she has it in her mind that fitness is only her thing. I’m doing this for me. I’m doing it for health reasons and to feel more confident in my own body.

I just wish she would understand this is not a competition.

Here is one look at the progress I’ve made in the last 8ish months. I’m proud of myself. I’m working hard and training hard

Xo,

M

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The sprained ankle

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We will make this short and sweet:

I had gone on three or four dates with this guy. Tuesday was his birthday so I offered to take him out for a drink. Things had been going well between us so I thought it would be nice to do. We went to this cool bar/ restaurant that was speakeasy themed. We had a drink , some bar food, and some good conversations. He noticed the time and realized we had to hurry out or he’d miss his train home. We were hurrying out and this is where it all went down hill. The entrance was a solid wood door. You can’t see if there is someone on the other side. I was walking out first in a hurry and talking to my date behind me.

Let’s pause here and have a science lesson. Who remembers Newtons 1st law: an object in motion will remain in motion unless acted upon by a force. Just remember that for the next part

So recap. I’m walking quickly towards the door and talking. As I lurch forward to open the door a man on the other side quickly pull it open. This results in my falling forward and completely missing the step outside the door. I’m embarrassed and the guy who opened the door and my date both feel awful. We all laughed about it once we realize I didn’t have an serious injuries. I did end up with a black an blue left knee and a sprained right ankle.

And yes, my date missed his train. The next one wasn’t for another hour so we sat at a bar near the station and got another drink while I iced my foot. Explaining to our nice bartender why I needed two whiskeys and a bag of ice SAT was funny.

Now enjoy pictures of my bruises I took when I got home. It’s looks worse than it is. I can walk mostly normally now but I’m still sore.

Awkward dates

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That awkward moment when you sprain your ankle on a date.

Yes, I know this isn’t a fitness post, but this is a great story. I’ll write it in the morning when my ankle stops hurting. Please notice the right ankle in the picture.

Meghan lives !

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Oh yes hey hi hello.

I think we all have figured out that I rarely post on here anymore. Let’s be honest, I’ve looked at WordPress less than ten times in the last few months. I just didn’t really feel the need to write anymore.

When I first started this blog , it was a therapeutic tool. It helped me deal with my anxiety, stress, depression etc. I still am known to go on a drunk anxiety rant or two ( see previous few posts), but those are far less frequent these days. My mental health still isn’t perfect. I still have “blah periods” as I like to call them. The difference now is that I’m better at dealing with it. I got formally diagnosed. I got medicine. I’ve learned how to better talk to people and reach out when I need it.

So why am I writing this now you ask?? Well….. I’m going to try ( emphasis on the word try) to start blogging again. This blog will be taking a shift though. It will be shifting to more of a health and fitness blog. UGH. I know. Feel free to unfollow now. I’m not trying to get all preachy here and tell people how to live. This is a tool to merely track my journey. Some back story.

I’ve been athletic my entire life. I played loads of spots as a kid and was always high energy. I was also very small and scrawny growing up. I was a good athlete but I was always missing something. Strength. I had trouble gaining weight and it’s hard to build muscle when you’re already under weight. I was never really that self conscious about my size until I was in my teens. People we “maturing ” wayyyyy faster than me. In middle school people were getting boobs while I looked like a 5 year old boy. It didn’t bother me that much yet. At least I was skinny ??? It wasn’t until the summer before freshman year of high school that I found out I had Crohn’s disease. I’ve written about that before so you can Google it. Basically, my insides were all inflamed and hadn’t been properly absorbing nutrients for god knows how long. This is where the body issues truly began. I was constantly on medicine that made my body do all sorts of weird things. I was still scrawny and shapeless but at least I was finally gaining some weight. I don’t think I actually hit puberty until I was around 16 or 17 and I didn’t really get boobs until college (and they barely exist at that). I always joke that would have probably been way sluttier in college if I actually had boobs and wasn’t so self conscious. Just to be clear my definition of slutty was kissing three different guys in one night. God forbid someone see me without clothing. I was too self conscious for that.

Throughout college I finally got to a healthy weight. I don’t think I actually gained the “freshman 15” until I was off on my own in the adult world. In the last two years I’ve definitely gained weight. This is all due to depression, bad eating habits, and injuries. I’m not “overweight” by any means. But, I’m also not happy with the way my body looks. There are some areas that have become rather pudgy. There is forever the a vicious circle in my head telling me I need to be the anorexic looking skinny I was pre Crohns diagnosis. That skinny was ingrained in my brain as “normal” for a good half of my life. I fight an internal battle constantly of where the line falls between living healthy and living unhealthy (aka not eating ).

Over the last few months I’ve started lifting on top of my normal running. I’m finally starting to see muscle definition in my arms and legs. So much that even my family noticed over Christmas. Seeing muscle gain and still being displeased with some areas, I’ve decided I’m going to do my first weight cut in January. Don’t worry, I’m a healthy enough weight now that I can afford to lose some. I’m somewhere between 135-140lbs. The lowest I can get down to (without my doctor getting mad) is 115-120. My goal is around 120-125.

This is where the blog comes in. I’m hoping to use this as a tool to 1) hold myself accountable 2) make sure I’m doing this in a safe and healthy way and 3) to track my progress. I’m working with friends who are very knowledgeable in the gym and in weight cuts. I have a friend who is a trainer I can go to with questions. I’m not doing this on my own this time.

Wish me luck guys.

Ps: I have a full running schedule ahead of me next year. Two half marathons, a 10k and hopefully a full marathon. Yikesss.

pss: photos taken over the last month or two for reference.

I wish

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I wish the family knew what kind of pain I go through. I wish they knew I was going to go panic right now and crying myself to sleep. But they will never understand that because I will never share that. I am not strong enough to ask the people I love the most to help me. I know at least one person read this at some point feel bad. Because she knows me and know how much i struggle. But she stealing something else right now, that’s were born and I don’t want to disturb her. So I will just go to sleep. The only time my inner demons come out. I hope you appreciate this, is the only time i will share.

Word type

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This is a whole document typed by auto type. I don’t know what else to call this. I am literally speaking into my phone and it’s writing what I’m saying. So if this sounds weird or mess up just know it’s the phone messing it up.

So I love my family. But they give me a panic attacks. I hope to God they never read this. Because they would think I hate them. Which I don’t. I love them to death. But they are also the driving force of my anxiety and panic attacks. Great at my ex-boyfriend said do not help with the panic attacks but they’re not a leading cause of it they are just another example of my panic attacks. My family was going on a rant tonight to the point where I had to excuse myself and go to bed. I got too much for me and I just need it to sleep. And now I am writing this post. If it seems we are at a logical it is because I am using voice text right now to write this because I am not physically able to write this post. I’ve already seen that there are a few grammatical errors or weird things written in this post because of voice text. Like the word Ashley. I don’t know why it’s there but it is for something I was trying to sayBut it is there so please excuse it like this grammatical error in the but it is there. But anyways I’m trying to write posts because I do not right now but if were being honest, the only time I write posts is when I am having anxiety episodes or drunk or stress or not and it’s over state of mind. And the over state of mine was supposed to say a sober state of mind. I read it all the sweeter voice text right now so it’s not gonna come out pretty. But I should go to bed right now I have a been on the verge of about three panic attacks I should just go to bed right now. Like I said I love my family but they drive me nuts. Good night.

XOXO MMb

The breakdown

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This is it. I’ve hit my breaking point. I’ve ashamed to admit I’m hiding in my bathtub right now (my safe space ) having a full and complete mental breakdown. Here is where I’m at and my rant. Please note i tried to drink my feelings away in tequila shots. That also failed because well…. IM SUPER FUCKING UPSET.

Here is my rant. (In all caps because I’m yelling )

FUCK THIS. THIS ISNT FAIR. WHY ME. KVE TAKEN MY MEDS WHEN I WAS SUPPOSED TO. WHY DOES MY GODDAMN BODY HATE ME. YES BODY. THE THINGS YOU DO ARE REALLY COOL BUT WHY DOES IT HAVE TO FUCK ME OVER IN THE PROCESS. ITS MOR GODDAMN FAIR. I SHOULDNT BE CURLED UP IN MY DAMN BATHUB AGAIN CRYING OVER THIS FUCKING DISEASE FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME TIME IN 26 YEARS. I SHOULDNT BE DROWNING MY SORROWS IN BOOZE TO HELP MASK THE PAIN. FUCK THIS. FUCK EVERYTHING. THIS ISNT FAIR. WHAT HORRIBLE THING IN LIFE HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS. I KNOW THE SAYING “GOD GIVES HIS HARDEST BATTLES TO HIS STRONGEST SOLDIERS” BUT IVE BEEN FIGHTING BATTLES MY WHOLE DAMN LIFE. WHEN DO I GET A BREAK. WHEN DO I GET TO STOP FIGHTING. WHY DONT I DESERVE A BREAK. WHY DONT I DESERVE HAPPINESS OR LOVE FOR ONCE. WHY DO I HAVE TO FIGHT THIS BATTLE LET ALONE DO IT ALONE. WHY WHY WHY.