Lightning Might Just Strike The Same Place Twice

Today, I was struck with one of the lowest moments I've had in months. Unable to lift a weight that I thought I would be able to manage easily, my initial confidence was torn apart and what remained was an overwhelming reminder of how weak I actually was. The boiling pot of nagging insecurities had finally tipped and flushed me with feelings of anguish, frustration and despair, all of which took the form of my breaking down in the corner of the gym. I couldn't tolerate the mechanisms of my body, how slowly it took to reach milestones that should have been reached within fractions of the time had I been born 'normal'. I couldn't tolerate the lack of strength, the limitations of this vessel which forces me into rigid routines for its maintenance. And even then it's not good enough. In all the misery of staring at a stranger in a mirror all these years, I wanted to end it all. I hadn't felt this strong an urge to hit myself since I was around 16 but I only got to hitting myself in the head a few times before I decided that perhaps my patience was being tested. I didn't hit myself anymore after that and went on to complete my workout. I would say that perhaps this is a small stepping stone for me, no matter how small it's still a step and it's still a change.