As far back as I can remember, my top New Year’s resolution was to lose weight. Each year, that goal fell through my fingers like sand. The harder I reached for the high bar I had set, the farther away I felt from accomplishing my goal. By high school I was skipping meals and hardly eating enough to sustain a small bird.

During my senior year, I joined the swim team out of certainty that this would solve my weight problem. I came close to my goal weight that season, but when it ended, I watched it return pound by pound. Desperate, I tried swimming on my own. I’d swim until my head felt light and stars filled the corners of my vision. With shaky arms, I repeatedly gouged my shins climbing out of the pool, leaving layers of scars. Yet, I still couldn’t reach my dream weight.

As my goal drifted farther from me, so did my mental health. I dropped out of college, started numbing, overworking and accidentally burning bridges. At that point I weighed 275 pounds, had just been diagnosed with pre-diabetes and was dating an alcoholic who refused much-needed medical attention; I could keep up with him in drinking. Then I was met with a wakeup call. One of my favorite coworkers died in a skateboarding collision with a car. While processing the loss, I faced my own mortality.

My idea of health shifted and I broke up with my partner, stopped drinking, quit my job and returned to SRJC in 2024. As I made my way through the communication studies program, I noticed that my thought processes differed from those of most people.

Last August I was finally diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia. These diagnoses helped explain why I’m one of the 80% of people whose New Year’s resolutions fizzle out after only one month. They also launched me on a journey to figure out how to identify and break through barriers associated with ADHD and dyslexia. I have now successfully kept up with my goal for an entire year.

Keeping resolutions is a journey, not a destination.

My resolution seems simple: lose weight. Little did I know, I was caught in a cycle.

Self-hatred would push me to keep up with workouts for a month. During that time, I’d keep busy to the point of burnout. In my exhaustion, I would regain the weight plus more, causing self-hatred to resurface with a vengeance and begin the cycle again. The cycle began to crack when I realized that the bulk of my time and energy didn’t have a calculated direction.

My chaotic ADHD mind, the places I frequented — like bars and restaurants — and the people I surrounded myself with — party animals — all worked against me. I found it difficult to fit in time to cook for myself, let alone step into a pool. Gently, and at times forcibly, I unraveled and embraced what was holding me back and learned to forgive myself for past mistakes.

I had been fighting to fit into other people’s definitions of success. How could I not compare myself to these beautiful social media influencers with perfectly toned bodies? Not to mention the before and after ads that make losing 50 pounds in a weekend look like a trip to the other side of the pool. Advice I received, such as “just make it a habit” or “eat fewer calories,” was not helpful because ADHD made my energy level fluctuate from day to day and fueled a growing food addiction. These were challenges I hadn’t yet faced.

So how did I regain control of my brain and body so I could meet my goal? I tuned in to my own energy.

Tuning in to my energy was not a linear process. I believed that when I succeeded in losing weight, I would arrive somewhere bright and sunny. That belief locked me into a never-ending attempt — and subsequent failure — at getting my life together. I was never content with myself or how I looked. So although “tuning into my energy” rolls off the tongue, I like to think of this as a journey in which I continue to reshape my goals as I discover more about myself. My goals now fit into my life rather than attempting to stuff myself into others’ cookie-cutter perceptions. I’m not stressed to be anywhere other than where I am now. After all, the well-known saying is: life is in the journey.

The brain dump

Now when reflecting on my progress each month, I start by decluttering my mind with a brain dump. I grab my notebook and write out everything bouncing around my busy head, what I need to get done today or even months from now, what I’m curious about, what I want to accomplish and any cool new music or hobbies that pique my interest, including ones I don’t believe I could learn. Why place hypothetical limits on myself?

Brain dumps don’t have to be completed in one sitting. The most freeing day I’ve had recently was when I carried a stack of flashcards with me to write every thought of that day. E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g, even stuff I had told myself wasn’t important. What I realized was that all the little unimportant crap takes up space in my brain. Later that day, my deeper thoughts materialized, giving me a moment to relax and reflect. I started asking why I was drawn to think about certain things, especially if they popped into my brain in the middle of talking to a friend or sitting in class. They were soaking up my attention like a dry sponge when I wanted to be more present.

Next, I categorized everything from my brain dump onto one page. I started with a well-known tool called the Wheel of Life, a pie chart divided into categories of health, romance, career, finances, personal development, family and friends, fun and recreation, and contribution to society.

Each slice of the pie has notches to fill in to help visually gauge if your life is balanced. I didn’t end up coloring in the visual, but the categories helped me organize my thoughts and therefore my life. I keep one printed out in my goals binder.

I felt guilty about this at first, until it dawned on me to use tools like this with a grain of salt. I won’t hold myself to something that doesn’t work for me. So my new question was, what does work for me?

The SMART Goals tool — an acronym for Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant and Time-Bound — got the ball rolling. I reframed my goal according to the following:

Specific – What exactly do I want to do?
Measurable – How will I track my progress?
Achievable – Do I have the resources?
Relevant – Does this matter right now?
Time-bound – When is the deadline?

This tool helps refine goals in a measurable way.

For instance, one of my New Year’s resolutions to help me lose weight was to hike the 16-mile trail between Sonoma Mountain and Jack London State Park by this summer. SMART goals helped me visualize the amount of time the goal would take. It solidified the stepping stones for gaining the strength and agility I will need. Since January, I’ve learned that this hike is overly ambitious for me to accomplish by summer because I’m taking 12.5 school units. But this process has taught me to remain curious about how to tune into myself. I no longer get discouraged to the point of a halt, and it is still set for next summer’s goals.

In an attempt to not drop every goal, I visited SRJC’s Student Success Center in Petaluma. Peer coaches sat with me when I first attempted to learn how to use SMART goals, and said they would monitor my progress. They told me to map my whole week down to the hour.

Before this, I couldn’t picture how long certain tasks would take, and I would fill my days to the point of exhaustion. Never having energy for the gym, I found a routine that could mend my all-or-nothing attitude and fluctuate as much as I do. I have a categorized list of workouts I choose from on my workout days; low energy, medium energy and high energy. In mapping my hours, I learned that  etting strict workout days for myself only discourages me when I don’t have the energy.

So I tell myself I have to work out a certain number of times that week to satisfyingly check off a box in my planning binder. I’ve also learned that a lot of my decisions are made from a fear of failure. I reframed that as a fear of learning. To grow, one must fail and have enough energy to remain curious about why. It’s a process of learning balance and how to catch yourself when you fall. You can’t be a professional acrobat right away, so why expect it? I believe this fear stems from perfectionism. I’m unlearning my perfectionist habits after seeing how my standards were preventing me from finishing, and most of the time, even starting.

This has been true with my weight loss journey as well. I was talking down to myself for so long for not achieving my desired weight. But whenever I launched a new diet and exercise plan, I never observed myself to see what was or wasn’t working. I wasn’t listening to my body, only demanding it accomplish the impossible. I also hadn’t considered other weight loss factors, for instance stress regarding work and family or eating just before sleep. So I may not be down to my goal weight I set in high school, but I am 60 pounds lighter than in 2024 and to me, that’s success enough. Although I continue to shed pounds off my waist, my new top goal doesn’t involve my weight at all; I just want to be healthy and confident in my own skin.