I remember when my sister and I were little, and we used to wrestle with my dad. Almost inevitably, our wrestling/tickling matches would end with Dad doubled-over in pain from getting kicked…in the you-know-where.

I don’t have a you-know-where, per se, so I can’t really speak to what getting kicked there feels like, but if there’s a spiritual equivalent, I’m there, doubled over, wishing such thing as a spiritual athletic cup existed.

Y’all know I’ve been through a lot. Since I blogged last, my dad passed away (more about that later – not sure what I want to say yet). Since I blogged last, I also found out, after some weird symptoms, a bunch of tests, and a lot of waiting, that I have PCOS.

If you’re not familiar, PCOS is some real BS if you ask me. Basically, my hormones are all out of whack, affecting my ability to get pregnant and causing all sorts of liver and blood sugar issues, including diabetes, in the long-term if not managed.

Yay. Just what I needed.

If that wasn’t bad enough, here’s the real kicker. You know what the main way to manage PCOS is? Diet and exercise, specifically weight loss.

Some people would say that’s great news. It’s manageable! It’s not a death sentence! It could be so much worse! For me, it feels like a big spiritual kick in the you-know-where.

The last six months or so, I have been working super-duper hard on how I think about myself. Since last fall, I’ve gained back a lot of the weight I lost a few years ago, due to stress, a new job, changing my diet, and the circus that has been my life lately.

At first, I was really not okay. I felt like a total failure. People aren’t supposed to lose the weight and then gain it back. That’s not how this works. I looked in the mirror and felt depressed. I put on clothes that no longer fit right and felt defeated.

Through working with a health coach over the last few months and a lot of hard work, I came to a place where I accepted the new me. Bodies change as life happens, and I started to truly believe that the size of my body said nothing about my worth, my health, or anything else.

Then, this happens. The one area of insecurity in my life, the one thing I’ve worked so hard to overcome has to become my main focus. I was becoming completely okay with my weight, and now my weight is undeniably the problem. Losing said weight is the only way to solve it. Oh, and all of our hopes and dreams are riding on my success.

Fabulous.

I have been walking in faith since my life started falling apart last year. I have dug my heels in, doubled down on my faith, and tried to trust God as best I could through everything.

But, like my dad, who I’m sure was thinking “Please kick me ANYWHERE ELSE,” I feel like this is the one area of my life right now I just didn’t need to struggle with. I’m already crying on a pretty regular once or twice a week schedule given everything else going on in my life. I really don’t need to feel like crap about my weight, too.

I’m still metaphorically doubled over in pain at this point. I’m devastated. I’m frustrated. I cry a lot. I don’t get why this happens randomly and why FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD CAN I NOT CATCH A BREAK??

I’ve started doing some research on how to manage my symptoms and live with this new diagnosis. Plans are in the works for a potential half-marathon in November to give me a goal that’s not related to weight.

I haven’t yet figured out how I’m going to manage this weight loss thing while not going into let’s-freak-out-over-everything-I-eat mode. And honestly, I’m terrified that I can’t do it.

But I’m praying. A lot. And at this point, prayer is the best spiritual athletic cup I can think of.

Have PCOS? Any tips? I’ve read that low-GI diets can help too so if you’re diabetic and have any recipes or eating tips, please please let me know. And prayer is always appreciated.

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