Mon-Fri 5:30 am-8:00 pm Saturday: 5:00 am-11:00am Sunday: By Appt
Brutal Honesty

Sometimes even *I* don’t want to workout, okay, well that actually might be a lot of the time, but sometimes RARELY even *I* don’t want to eat healthy, and this weekend was one of those times.  I used to suffer from emotional binge eating, and can see how it was self medicating, depression.  The kind of depression that once it grabbed hold, the crazy obsessive thoughts of wanting to die would take over.  Even though I never felt the urge to act upon those thoughts they were more taunting, like teasing me to believe all my problems could go away if I just wasn’t here and what a nice feeling that would be.  It was more like a fantasy that caused a rage in my head of wanting to flee and unable to control the world around me.  To feel calm and in control, I would eat.  I can also now diagnose my addicted self as being low in the GABA portion of my brain and needing to eat to pick it back up.  Due to my struggles with food, I fear ever eating certain foods again, like a meth addict who fears seeing needles.  I just know certain things will trigger the demons that used to haunt me and I choose not to eat them.

Last night the curse words of “I want McDonald’s” just slipped off my lips! I know, the audacity of your holistic nutritionist and trainer to want McDonalds! My ever so awesome little family almost got whiplash turning to look at me with utter shock and complete horror on their faces, I can actually almost chuckle about it now, if I wasn’t still craving french fries. Anyway, because they are ever so trained to know the health dangers of eating McDonald’s they instantly knew something wasn’t right inside my head and an immediate intervention took place.

You see, earlier that day my husband and I had gone to have our taxes prepared by a tax professional.  Up until this year, I had always done our taxes myself using a program that walked me through it.  This year due to his parents passing and receiving an inheritance, it was required we seek out a tax professional to file on our behalf.  So, I gathered all my trusty receipts, which are completely categorized together and then placed in the order the IRS requests them, highlighted to show purchase, highlighted in another color to prove the date, as well as all my reports on my accounting and full checking statements for the year.  I was feeling very impressed by my controlling ways and excited to show them off, knowing this tax professional would be won over immediately by my helpful ways.  Or not.  This session wasn’t at all what I had thought it to be in my mind and will be a few more sessions long.  Let’s just say the appointment left me feeling like I was 2 inches tall and had nothing to contribute to the world.

But I DO, I have something to contribute, and maybe not everyone can measure success by lives changed, or weight being lost, or hormones being restored, or people being able to come off medications, or marriages being restored, or people finding themselves again, but I do! And I wanted to scream out “but look at our facebook page and all the memories made and lives being changed” but in that moment what was looked at was the final numbers and that was all.

In that moment the only thing that mattered all year long above everything I FEEL IS IMPORTANT was one specific report, the income and loss report.  Being a small business owner is not easy.  Being a small business owner with a dream and no business skills is even harder!  When I first opened over four years ago, the number one question/concern/lack of faith I got was, “Do you even have any business skills?” and well, no, I don’t, but I do have a great big God who gave me a vision.  A God who has walked me through healing of depression, healing of food addiction, and gave me the strength to tell my story and help others find healing as I have.  And well.  That was good enough.

However, even though I knew paying the rent, and the utilities and insurances and licenses and all the other costs that come with a business was taxing and impossible, when you file your own taxes you don’t really have to face that reality.  I think I was able to kind of “hide” my lack of business skills.  People skills, is where I flourish, business skills, well, not so much.  I love what I do.  I love sharing my story, I love seeing people change, I love people.  That’s the bottom line for me, I just love loving on people, and my pure enjoyment of that has always far outweighed making millions of dollars, or thousands, or well let’s be honest, even hundreds.

BUT in yesterday’s appointment, for some odd reason, being faced with what I felt was lack of business skills and being defined solely by one report, I crashed.  I panicked, I second guessed everything that I am, and I wanted to fix it the only way I knew how.  By eating some McDonalds.  The pressure, the shame, and only being seen as a business owner was just too overwhelming.  From that moment on, every little thing got under my skin, I was cranky, moody, and well I think I was acting like a real “B” word, which is very NOT like me.

All of THOSE emotions were coming from not feeding my addiction.  From feeling out of control.  From feeling worthless.  From feeling like a loser.  And I wanted to eat to numb the pains and run away.

So my family intervened and my sweet daughter took me to her gym and my son paid for my guest pass.  AAANNNDDDD well, it wasn’t pretty.  However, in my defense, me working out is never pretty, and I admit I can be quite the complainer.  OK, so back to the workout, it was “leg day” for her so I just followed what she was doing.  OH HOLY JIMMENY that workout was hard! I don’t know how she does all those crazy machines and the extremely heavy, basically, power lifter weight her little tiny legs were doing! Kuddos to her for being the rockstar leg day queen that I am clearly not.  So I had my headphones on, set to the breakup playlist cause that’s the kind of mood I was in.  Which, I can now see how music can absolutely affect your workout, and will NEVER do that to myself again. EVER.  OK, back the workout, she was sweet and calm and laughed when I made faces of “what the hell weight is this set too and why are you trying to murder me?!?!?!?!?!”  and in an hour and half we were done.  YES, you read that right, 90 minutes later!!!!!

Well, due the breakup playlist of all sad songs I didn’t quite get the endorphins boost my intervention was supposed to bring me.  Well, don’t worry folks, I didn’t run away, nor did I drive through McDonalds.  What I did do, was go home, feel sorry for myself, crash in depression, AND finish eating all my macros I had left for the day in the terms of my meal prep.  I no longer wanted McDonalds, I was no longer a B word, but was feeling very very low in my mood and just blah.

We played a family card game which started out super fun and I was feeling good, then BAM emotions crashed again and I went to bed feeling tired and sad.  I was no longer feeling blah or depressed but was able to pinpoint pure overwhelming sadness.

I took some amino acids to help my brain health and went to sleep.  To awake to feeling very rested and ready for my workday.  I went into to work, met with a few clients, I had my own training session with my personal trainer and that was the workout that lifted my endorphins.  The good thing about having a personal trainer is they know you and they can read you.  Always trust them to have your best interest at heart.  Even though I mentally couldn’t do it, physically I could, and that had to be true to change my mood.  Tyler knew, pushed me hard, and I PR’d my weight on some exercises and it helped me so much.  But I had to force myself to get there.

I don’t want any bad food in this moment, and I even meal prepped for the week (thankfully having grocery shopped before I got too bad yesterday) and stayed as productive as I could today.  I know for myself, if I don’t keep to my normal routine and if I give in to the depression it will take that much longer to pass, so I pulled deep into myself and pulled out a productive day today, against every fiber of my being that wanted to binge watch reality TV shows and hide from the world.

You see, I had a choice.  My demons came back this weekend.  My demons of not being seen as perfect.  My demons of being found out that I love loving on people more than making money and therefore not being seen as a real business owner.  My demons of not being in control.  My demons of wanting those foods I haven’t had in well over SIX YEARS coming back to haunt me.  The feeling of being so low in my spirit I actually felt for a split second I was going there and not going to be able to pull back out.

But I did.  I am still sad.  I am still feeling blah.  But I am surrounded by people who love me.  I have a support system.  I have friends who have reached out and asked if I am ok.  People who noticed I am not as peppy as normal.  Children who want me to succeed and send me off to the gym.  A husband who says I am doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing.

So why can’t I shake it?  Because I am tired.  And because the tax lady is right.  But she’s also wrong.  I refuse to ever be a gym or a “business”.  It’s not me, and tax lady may not agree, or big business owners, or anyone who has money, or well anyone in general.  Hahahaha.  But it’s not me, and it’s not the vision God gave me for Perfect Union.  I refuse to charge crazy prices for things people can go find online for free.  I refuse to pack a ton of people into fitness classes and risk not having everyone seen.  Someone’s form and safety means too much to me.  But most of all, the community means too much to me.  Perfect Union has something special that you can’t describe in words.  It has heart, and love, and memories, and stories, and life.  REAL LIFE.  Not a fake life.  It’s full of women with real problems, who struggle, but are honest to me and to themselves and bond with those they workout with.  It’s a community of people who lift each other up.  It’s a community of people who share their dreams, their heartaches, and their goals with.  IT’S A FAMILY.  And a healthy one at that, with no shame, no judgement and no hidden rules.

I wouldn’t change that for anything, even a different yearly report.  So although that one single report may have derailed me yesterday, today it has motivated me to look beyond my vision and start to get creative.  To seek ideas of what else is out there.  More nutrition services, more detoxes, online services, and our new wellness weekends.  There are plenty of things to change the report with out changing my heart and vision for Perfect Union!

So, thats that.  In just one weekend I have experiences a whole assortment of emotions, ideas, tears, and pride.  Proud of what I have done with Perfect Union and also proud of myself for not giving in to the demons and staying the course.

Well my WordPress says this has been enough words for one blog, if you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading!



On 18-02-2018 3 436

3 thoughts on “Brutal Honesty

  1. Jennifer, I want to thank you so much for providing such a special place. You do go way beyond for your clients. I know that I greatly appreciate it and you’ve been the one I could come to in some of my darkest days. For that, I thank you so much. It means the world to me.

  2. This is raw and beautiful
    and YOU at your very best.
    You are not alone. You’ve created a community who believes in you and loves you.
    The reason we trust you my friend is because the empathy you show us is a result
    of your own beautiful journey. Thank you for sharing so openly. You know your value is not
    In a spreadsheet right. That tax lady can go to hell. Your value is eternal and given to
    You by God alone. You are beloved sister. 💪

  3. I’m sorry Jennifer. Thank you for sharing. I know this feeling all too well. Healing the world one family at a time and I barely make a living. The rewards can not be measured on a spreadsheet for sure. My CPA has asked me how I pay the bills. Well I do and I know I’m doing the right thing. You’re amazing and so is Perfect Union. Keep finding your way girlfriend.

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