Its been a while since she worked out. Like, really worked out and not just gone through the motions to get through a routine. But today, she's got gloves on, hair pulled into a high ponytail, and she's throwing punches at a bag. Her mind's spinning. She doesn't know how to handle any of it, so she's throwing punches at a bag and there's the occasional kick and she's sweating, loose strands of hair are sticking to her face, and she can hear her heart pounding in her ears as she takes in quick, sharp breaths.

There have been a lot of feelings bubbling inside as of late that she's struggled to get a handle on, to make sense out of them. Or for months, if she wants to be totally technical and totally real with herself. Frustration and sadness and confusion and feeling lost, but mostly, she's just angry, all for reasons she can't quite place or explain, but they've gotten overwhelming as of late, and most days, she feels as if she's drowning without a surface to break through in sight. It's all mixed-up, confused, and really, she just wants it to stop. Wants to let go, wants to rid herself of it all, but she can't seem to find a way through it all. It's drowning, it's an endless maze with deadends and somehow keeps rearranging itself, she's not quite sure what to call it or them, but she just wants them to go the fuck away.

But they won't and they don't, they weigh her down, keep piling up and she can't breathe sometimes. It's overwhelming. Taking on her own issues, the issues of people she cares about and their lives, the issues of a life that's hers, but its not, and whatever bullshit from that leaked into her daily life that she was forced to carry around. It was a burden shes never asked for, one she doesn't want, and she's just fucking tired of carrying it all. Logically, she knows she should internalize less. Shouldn't bury, shouldn't ignore, shouldn't try to do things alone. She has people she can talk with, help her make sense of situations and get her head on straight again, but she doesn't. She bottles it, caps the lid. Won't let it escape, won't put it "out there", pushes herself to be okay, to live her day to day life, to not slow down.

She's dripping with sweat now, it rolls down and off of her skin while she breathes heavily and her mouth and throat are getting dry, then there's the faint feeling of burning in her muscles as she pushes them to their limits but she doesn't stop. No pain, no gain, and to get better, she had to break through those pains and keep pushing. So she does. One punch, then another. Her thoughts race and jumble around her head. Distantly, she can make out the sound of her trainer's voice. The words don't process, she's not really listening, and she's focused on her form and her life and she can't seem to stop herself.

Lily swallows hard.

Another kick to the side of the bag.

It's not fair. She shouldn't have to suffer because of a life she didn't choose, one that wasn't hers, one she never asked to be a part of and would be more than happy if it didn't exist. She couldn't remember details, barely had more than a few basic and simple memories and connections to make sense of it, but she fucking knew what a toll it had taken on her. She didn't know all the ways or how, but the feelings were beginning to blend and it was difficult to separate her on and off weeks. She didn't deserve to have to fucking feel things she didn't want to feel.

Feelings. Something Lily is, in fact, completely over and tired of dealing with because they seem to do nothing but get her into trouble or pain or both. A part of her knows a lot of it is of her own doing; the rest of it is a result of being dealt a shit hand. Repeatedly. Her stubborn nature keeps her going forward, makes her keep trying, and her stupid hopeful nature just won't let her give up and let the fuck go. She can learn from mistakes, but she keeps making them. And maybe, she thinks in the back of her head, she really is the problem and not the rest of the world. If history kept repeating itself, it's because of her choices and actions, even if some of them are beyond her realm of control right now. But those things, they're a little better to suppress and lock them away, force herself to ignore and get past them. Everything is ridiculously mixed up and confusing and answers are difficult to find. She just wants peace and to have a grasp on her own life, her own emotions.

She could grow from this, maybe, if she can get a proper handle on it. And then she can help other people more and maybe actually make a fucking difference for once in her life, if she can just get out of her own mind for a little while and--

Eventually, the pain in her side is too much, and she doubles over with her hands on her knees, gasping for air, body shaking and she closes her eyes, squeezes them tight in order to fight back any more tears that threaten to escape them. Her chest heaves while she struggles to take in air and she tries to suck in slow breaths through her nose in order to calm herself. She straightens her back out, tosses the gloves aside, and reaches up to fix her ponytail, pulling all of the strands that had fallen out back on top of her head. Next, she reached for a water bottle and quickly inhaled from it before she tossed it to the side.

"Let's go again."