A very close friend of mine and I have both been through pyschological hell. He and another anxiety ridden friend of ours take turns taking care of each other. On a day I was particularly anxious and depressed, my friend told me he thinks people such as are beautiful. We live with our eyes open.
We see things we weren’t meant to see, we explore places where no one can ever go, even if those things and places are only created and limited by ourselves. Whenever I am on the verge of mania, that is what I think of. I am capable. I not like everyone else. I am beautiful.
Find friends who will feel you but who won’t feel bad for you. Be as damn depressed and anxious as you feel, but don’t expect anyone to slow down for you. And never do anything you don’t want to do, not for a single day in your life. If you want to increase your lifts, you’ve come to the right place.
If it really doesn’t matter to you anymore, then fucking forget it. Things are only valuable if you make them so.
Training has gotten me through the worst of times. You have no idea how many times I’d cry all the way to the gym because something had just gone down. I trained after 9 hours of moving when my dad and I left my mom, I trained the days my father has been hospitalized, the day I found out my mom has cancer all over her body, the day I stabbed myself with my keys during a fit, through terrible fucking break-ups, arrests, funerals, and just plain days that shit everywhere.
I think you know what to do to get your lifts higher. Do what you were doing before. Take some fish oil, don’t take ephedrine, try to sleep, and work really fucking hard like you always have, and we’ll help you fill the cracks in between as well as we can.