Day 1: My Story

Before I get into the whole logistics of this blog, I want to first kind start out on a serious note and give you all a firsthand, in-depth look at why I am doing this. I debated whether I wanted to take that extra step and post my personal journey online for others to read. But, then again, I thought, I'm a writer, and it's my job to tell stories. Some heartfelt, some painful, some even pretty comical along the way. All those emotions pretty much some up any story. They pretty much sum up my story, some emotions more than others.

The past year was a continuous roller coaster ride for me, and I'm not talking about the fun, wooden amusement park ride that gives you that oh-so incredible thrill. Usually, roller coasters seem to last a mere five minutes, and keep us wanting more and more of that unique throat to the stomach high once you drop from that first big climb. But, mine was different. This roller coaster was pure hell combined with a mixture of emotions that would be harmful to anyone. This ride began my last semester of college.

Prior to achieving a bachelor's degree at the University of Georgia, I spent months anticipating not the day I would receive my diploma, but what came afterwards. For days on end, I'd contemplate the future and what was going to happen once my worries didn't concern syllabi, tests and costly books. Especially in my field of work, I was very uncertain about where I'd end up or who I'd be writing for. Although I eventually figured out that I wanted to pursue post-graduate school and had applied to three different programs, that didn't stop the constant worry or second guessing game. This worry transpired into a deep depression that I later named my quarter-life crisis. I stopped doing the things I loved. No more going out in downtown Athens with friends. No shopping. No working out. Nothing. All I did was nothing, but stay cooped up in my apartment, mostly my room of comfort. Once I finished necessary homework assignments, I'd crawl in bed and just sleep. Other times, I'd break down and cry. And I don't mean a few tears. I'm talking hardcore breakdowns with a lot of sobs and a few panic attacks in between. Not to mention I ate everything in sight. Any kind of junk food, I ate it. I even lost the personal relationship I had with God. I stopped praying, stopped listening, stopped quiet time. It wasn't pretty. I had completely lost myself. The spirit that had defined me since the day I was born was gone. I'd also lost my self-esteem and my body. Dana Jean Hortman didn't seem to exist at this point.

And then, December came.

I was beyond excited for this monumental moment in my life. For years, I had dreamed of the day that I would graduate from college. The day I'd look at all the hard work and see that it had all paid off. For those few days, I reveled in my success with pride and accomplishment. I even found out the day of my graduation that I had been accepted for a local editorial internship at a fashion magazine in Athens called BLVD. Graduating from a Division 1 school with a degree from one of the top journalism schools in the country on top of landing a writing position at a magazine, I was one proud woman. Christmas came and went, and so did the new year. I was hopeful and optimistic about what 2011 was going to bring. But, little did I know, I would never be prepared for all the hurdles I was about to run into.

The first few hurdles were easy. Learning how to navigate my writing style for BLVD and how to meet deadlines became fairly easy after a few weeks. I was enjoying being able to interview and put my creative flair into an article. I felt at home and in my own element. But the worry remained in the back of my mind. Would I get into graduate school? What if I got into all three? Which would I choose? What if I didn't get accepted into any of the programs? What's my plan B? I racked my brain with questions to the point I ended up worse than my pre-graduation depression. In addition, other aspects of my personal life also seem to plummet into a downward spiral. I pushed away those closest to me, even lost several individuals in my life. Relationships came and went. It was like this never-ending drama that wouldn't seem to ease up. I felt like I couldn't catch a break. I even began to resent God for everything that was happening. The full blame rested on him. And those that stuck by my side even through the thick knew I wasn't the same Dana. You know it's bad when family members and best friends are to the point of concern that they recommend you to talk to a professional. Not necessarily a shrink, but a counselor of some sort. At first, I got angry. I thought I was perfectly fine. But in reality, I wasn't. It took me awhile to see it, but I finally gave into the idea and knew I needed the help.

Though I don't care to go into the detail about therapy because it is very personal information that I want to keep private, I will say that I did seek counseling and confronted a lot of things I had been ignoring for some time. And oddly enough, talking to someone who was a complete stranger to my life prior was beneficial. I felt weight lifted off my shoulders, but only for awhile.

And then came the letters from graduate school.

Most who know me, with the exception of close family and friends, do not know this, but I didn't get accepted into any of the three programs I had applied to. University of Georgia, no. University of Alabama, no. University of North Carolina-Wilmington, no. I had hit my breaking point. Though I was seeing my counselor on a weekly basis, I couldn't seem to shake this hole I felt trapped in. I cried. I ate. I slept. That was my routine. I continued writing for BLVD, but when I wasn't writing, I was doing a lot of nothing once again. It took a few months to get over the three infamous rejections letters, but I did. I finally recognized that God wasn't to blame and that He actually was looking out for my best interest. He had something better planned for me. What it was, I still didn't know. But I knew I'd eventually find out with faith, hope and a lot of prayer. Not to mention patience.

Spring slowly transitioned into summer, and things finally started to fall in place. I began to figure things out, slowly but surely. It wouldn't happen overnight, but I knew eventually I'd find nirvana and be satisfied with what God had in store for little ole me.

Summer faded into fall. Football season. A new position at work. Exciting opportunities ahead. New friendships and relationships. Everything felt so right. And as fall fell into winter, I discovered I was about to take an amazing journey northward to New Hampshire to see one of my best friends. After such a pain-staking year, I was going to a place I'd never been before to experience something new and exciting. The vacation I had longed for all year. The chance to get away and leave everything behind. Literally. And I did just that. Although I could probably write a whole other blog post just about my trip alone, there is one part of my trip that I will never forget that I'd like to share.

Leading up takeoff, I had been nervous about traveling. No matter if it's trains, planes or automobiles, I can never seem to shake the travel nerves. With bags packed and prepared, airplane ticket in hand, I was officially ready for departure. Security, check. Found my seat, check. Seatbelt buckled, check. It was all downhill from there. And then there was this awe-inspiring calmness that overcame me. Strapped into my seat on that small 50 passenger plane, I prepared for takeoff, knowing that I was leaving everything behind. My family, friends, my past, 2011. It was all staying in Georgia. As we began taxing the runway the calmness overpowered me to the point where I had finally found peace. A peace so serene that not even the screaming Russian baby that was on board could disrupt. With the engines roaring full blast and gaining speed, the plane moved forward and there was no turning back. Soon, that calmness that had overcome me quickly turned into a rushed of emotions. I was happy. As soon as the pilot pulled the wheel upward and away we went, I was overwhelmed with tears of happiness mixed with a deep feeling of relief. It was over. 2011 was finally behind me. And New Hampshire was an amazing trip. I even put my big girl panties on and finally got the tattoo I had always wanted. At that point, I knew 2012 was going to be MY year.

After a long year of sadness, worry, concern, a little bit of hope and everything in between, I said goodbye and good riddance to what was one of the hardest years for me. Although I've basically put everything out there for all my readers to see, I honestly can't put into words the way I felt. I know adjectives can sometimes do justice, but in my case, they just can't. And even though 2011 is my distant past, something still doesn't feel right. And quite honestly, it shouldn't. Between the stress and worry, the junk food and lack of exercise, I now stand at the most I have ever weighed. Though I finally found the inner Dana that had been lost for 12 plus months, I'm still missing that outward Dana that I once saw in the mirror proudly.

So here I am, susceptible to physical change.

I just want to take this time to say thank you so much from the bottom of my heart for the tremendous amount of love and support I've been shown these past few days. It means more to me than you'll ever know. To those of you who stuck by my side through thick and thin, thank you for always being there through my brightest and darkest hours. I love each of you very much.

So now that the seriousness has been taken care of, time to get down to business. I'm ready, and I hope you are too!

Here's to my fabulous journey to becoming fit :)

~DJH