💔💔💔 This was wrong...

This is one hell of a closing argument from the @KenPaxtonTX campaign.

This is the absolute LAST post I ever expected to be making on the Monday of my bodybuilding show week. After months of weighing every gram of food, tracking every calorie, hitting my workouts, doing my cardio, practicing my posing, and preparing myself mentally, physically, and spiritually to step on stage this Saturday, I spent this past weekend binge eating in a way I’ve never experienced before. And when I say binge eating, I don’t mean I went out and enjoyed a cheat meal or ate a little more than I was supposed to. I mean I completely lost control. I kept eating long after my stomach was telling me to stop. I was physically uncomfortable, I wasn’t even enjoying the food anymore, and yet I continued eating. And the scariest part wasn’t even the amount of food I consumed. It was what was going through my head while I was doing it. At a certain point, it felt like I was intentionally sabotaging myself. Like there was a part of me that wanted to ruin everything I had worked so hard for. And I’ve spent the last couple of days asking myself WHY. Was I afraid I wasn’t going to look good enough on stage? Was I afraid of disappointing myself? Was I putting so much pressure on myself that I subconsciously wanted a way out? I don’t have all the answers. But those are some uncomfortable questions I’ve had to start asking myself. After the first binge, I told my coach Chris Elkins everything. Every single thing I ate. We talked about it, and the plan was to move forward, reassess, and take things day by day. The next day, I got right back to my routine. Tracked my food, followed my plan, and genuinely thought I had moved past what happened. Then nighttime came. What started as one extra bite of food turned into another binge. And this one was even worse than the first. I can’t even explain how disappointed I felt afterward. Not because I had eaten food that wasn’t on my plan. But because I had reached a point where I felt like I couldn’t stop myself from doing something I knew was hurting me. I woke up physically miserable. My face was extremely swollen, my body felt awful, and I was looking at myself in the mirror trying to understand how I had gotten here. And now here I am. Five days away from the competition I’ve spent months preparing for, roughly 10 pounds heavier than I was going into the weekend, and genuinely uncertain whether I’m going to step on stage this Saturday. Chris believes competing is still an option. Part of me wants to finish what I started. Another part of me wonders whether postponing until November would be the better decision. Because I know how much work I put into this prep. And I also know that the choices I made this weekend have consequences. I’m not going to sit here and blame anybody else. I’m not going to pretend it didn’t happen. And I’m definitely not going to ask anyone to feel sorry for me. But I also don’t want to spend the rest of my life beating myself up over two days. I made those choices. I have to own them. And now I have to figure out how to move forward. One thing this weekend has forced me to recognize is just how much pressure I’ve been putting on myself. Not only with bodybuilding, but with life in general. Constantly working. Constantly thinking about what’s next. Constantly being on my phone. Constantly feeling like I need to be doing MORE. And somewhere along the way, I stopped giving myself enough room to just live. So regardless of whether I compete Saturday or in November, some things are going to change. I’m prioritizing my sleep. I’m taking real breaks from social media. I’m giving myself time to recover. And I’m going to take a serious look at my relationship with food and the pressure I’ve been putting on myself. I’m not going to pretend I’ve figured everything out in 48 hours. I haven’t. And I don’t want to turn this into some inspirational story about how I fell down and immediately got back up stronger than ever. I’m still figuring it out.

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