Weights – Lorna

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I’ve now set myself up a black background too. These are the first photos I’ve taken using it.

“One of the best things I ever did for myself was to start going to the gym.

Being an addict often wastes muscle and flesh, but it can also reduce you mentally to something unrecognisable – once I got clean I felt so weak both in body and spirit. Like my spine had been ripped away, like merely being perceived was a horror.

So as you can probably imagine, entering a busy commercial gym was borderline nightmarish! At the best of times I hate the process of learning how to do something, especially in front of strangers… I hate feeling stupid.

 That first time I stepped in the gym alone was terrifying! But afterwards I was so proud of myself, I beamed walking home sweaty and sore.

I had heard of the “buzz” people get after a heavy lifting session, a flood of happy hormones borne of intense exercise…

I was relying on it manifesting, to help me stay motivated to keep going to the gym even when I didn’t want to. A new addiction if you will… But it didn’t.

Years of drug abuse had seemingly paralysed my ability to produce reward hormones, which I have heard over the last couple of years is surprisingly common!

So what kept me going?

At first it was stubbornness, and the encouragement of my then-partner. I owe him so much. When I was lying around feeling sorry for myself, grieving a near decade lost to drugs, he would say “why not go to the gym?”. He was an avid goer himself and I loved the commitment he displayed (and still does) to furthering his health and strength.

Then it was the feeling of growing stronger. The relief of being able to move more, the pride I felt when I managed to deadlift 40, then 50, then finally 65kg. I have never been competitive with others, but I began to compete with myself, always trying to add a kilo here or a repetition of a lift there. 

It was here I learned that what matters most is not what others think of me but what I think of myself.

Now when I go to the gym I find a sense of peace. The exercise helps calm my ADHD mind, giving me an hour or so of relief after each session. 

My confidence has soared – I praise my body, I see hints of muscle peeking beneath my flesh. I am grateful for my health, I am kinder to the places where fat clings, and to my dodgy joints. 

Each of these things is a stone in the path I am taking to who I want to be, weaving between the temptations and despair that could trigger a relapse back into addiction. 

The gym and my progress there is one of the foundations of my recovery – it is part of the whole story I am telling with my body, mind and soul.”