Most nights I lie in bed, ready for an escape from myself, yet a streaming video of everything I ate, how I exercised, the activities of the day won't stop playing in my mind. I pause. I breathe. I try to relax once again, but it doesn't work. When I'm not exercising -- even if I've already exercised that day -- I'm consumed with anxiety about my next workout. Will something come up and make me miss the gym? What about holidays when the gym is closed? Exercise has become a disease; it even disguises (,) itself as the cure. If I don't have _ as an escape, then what's left to hold me together? Working out feels like the only way to calm myself, but as soon as I leave the gym or finish a walk, the whole cycle starts over again. As you might have guessed by now, I suffer from depression and OCD  . I'm a highly-educated adult woman who knows the risks of this behavior, and yet I can't stop. As a society, we're told over and over that it's important to exercise. That's what makes it so easy to keep this addiction a secret; it's not as obvious as lighting up a cigarette. You can continue to feed your addiction under the guise that you're just being "healthy". I not only have to fight the nonstop thoughts in my head but also the "more exercise is better" messages I receive from the media every day. For me, exercise has become a drug, which is a way to numb the pain I might feel. I wonder what it would be like to "have the problem" of not wanting to go to the gym. It still feels very far away. Yet I know I can be stronger than this. I can break the cycle I'm in. I can tell my story so as to give up a piece of the secrecy that keeps me sick. Because no, you don't want my problem. And finally, neither do I. When the author goes to bed, she  _  .
can't breathe normally can't fall asleep always feels hungry always feels tired