To reiterate, I have a mental block against accepting
success. I've been going to the gym regularly (3-6 times a week) for just over a year now, and if you were to ask me what's changed from that I'd kinda just shrug my shoulders.
I can look at the numbers. I can notice that some shirts don't fit like they used to. But
I cannot internally process the fact that I've made any improvement at all (yes, fact. I can understand from an academic standpoint that I've made improvements, but my mind
balks at the idea of even remotely accepting any of it).
Failure, however, gets internalized
every goddamn day. The exertion of every rep is failure and humiliation, because it's not the weight/the ease it "should" be. Every set is failure and humiliation because I feel pain and exhaustion to the point of having difficulty counting which set that was, and I'm therefore not recovering as well as I "should" be.
Setting reasonable goals for myself is
extremely difficult, as any goal that's set low enough for me to achieve is meaningless because "anyone can do that", the only thing I've done is just set standard human capacity as a lofty height for me to shoot for. Therefore, achieving that goal is nothing more than a reminder of being subhuman.
That's how my brain works around all this. Competing against myself just means that every success is a failure, and every failure is also a failure. Every moment in the gym is pain and humiliation, for what I perceive to be a zero-sum game. I don't see myself improving, I just see myself putting in immense effort in order to
not get even worse. So, then, the effort that must be required in order to somehow
improve would have to be colossal and clearly not something I'm capable of.
I work off of two concepts internalized over the course of my life:
- Effort = Results
- If you're not vomiting or blacking out, you're not trying
Since I don't vomit or black out at the gym, I'm not really trying. And since I'm not really trying, I will never gain results.
And I don't push myself to vomiting/unconsciousness because, well, first of all it doesn't mean enough to me to do so. I'm not sure anything does. Second, I'm petrified of pushing myself to that point and
still not getting results, because that would prove to me once and for all that I'm just inherently incapable and there's no point doing any of it.
What I
need is a damn reboot of my sick head. And I'm working on that.
You've been lifting long enough now you should be able to identify what exercise nets what benefits, and selectively choose the ones that dovetail your needs.
"Should" being the operative word, again