A few months ago, I was thriving. Or so I thought.

I had a great fitness regime, I was eating right and I was feeling good. I could squat my body weight and had goals of training for a half-marathon. I hated missing a workout.

The gym was my second home, where I spent my mornings and evenings, where I went when I was stressed or upset. It was a place to release my daily frustrations. I was healthy almost to a fault — I would skip out on things I enjoyed to work out. I would pass up delicious food in favor of salad and lean protein.

I kept up my health and fitness for over a year and felt great. And then, almost overnight, it all changed.

I started skipping workouts and eating worse.

At first, I attributed it to stress. I started faltering around finals week last spring, I was in the midst of moving into a new apartment and I was trying to find a new job. I kept telling myself that I would get back to the gym the next morning...then the next morning... and then the next...

But after working until 10 or 11 p.m., all I wanted was sleep.

Working out had not only been my physical stimulation but my mental stimulation, and soon my mental health began deteriorating. When I was working out and eating right, it boosted the effectiveness of my antidepressants. I felt great. My mood was boosted and I was energized and alert.

When I stopped, all the things I had been struggling with in my brain came speeding back. I was tired, stressed, overworked and unhappy.

Some days, I still am.

I try to workout when I have the chance now, but months of not going to the gym have reduced my stamina and my strength. I get discouraged. I try to eat right, but between 20 credits and four part-time jobs, it's hard to stick to my goals — especially when a PB&J takes a fraction of the time to make than chicken and veggies does and costs significantly less.

And when I see pictures of myself from my healthiest, my heart sinks and the voices in my head tell me that I will never get back to that.

But it's getting better. In struggling to regain my fitness. I have found that fitness is so much more than lifting weights and running miles. It's about listening to your body and knowing when it's as happy as you think it is.

I'm writing this because I know there are others out there who are struggling. It is so, so hard, but what I am starting to realize is that I owe it to myself to be the healthiest, happiest person I can be. We think of self-care as face masks and scented candles, but self-care is listening to your body.

My body is begging me to treat it more kindly — to nourish it, to exercise it, to strengthen it. But it's also begging me to appreciate where I am. I have legs that carry me across mountain hikes, hands that can pet dogs and a heart that can love. I am healthy, even when my anxiety tells me I'm not.

There are days when I think "I've let myself go," but there are also days when I know that I have just begun to find myself.

If you feel like you've let yourself go, just listen to your body. You can find yourself too.