That's not a dust bunny.
That's a dust buffalo.
So why am I stirring up a cauldron of temptation for the Fates again? Well, it was decided that I need to start really trying to see what I can accomplish and what I already contribute in the grand scheme of things. As far too many people are already aware, it's entirely too easy to undervalue ourselves and find faults that no one else sees.
Why is that?
Why is it that when we hear someone else say something about us that we don't like, we immediately jump up in all our righteous indignation and glory prepared to tear them up, dress them down, beat them up, knock them down, and otherwise hokey pokey and turn them all around into a body cast because how dare they disrespect us in any way, shape, or form?!?!?....
but we don't even bat an eye when those very same comments, insults, and assorted hateful opinions towards us come from our own mind? What is it about human beings that makes it so unbelievably easy to latch onto that garbage and drive out the good stuff?
I guess Vivian from "Pretty Woman" had it right: "The bad stuff is easier to believe. You ever notice that?"
Well, that doesn't make it true, now does it??
This is the struggle I've been dealing with for as long as I can remember.
~The nagging voice telling me that if I'm not actively doing something productive at all moments of the day, I'm wasting someone's time, taking someone for granted, or letting someone down with my laziness. This voice has such a hold over me that I cannot sit still and read a book because I have to be physically accomplishing something tangible at all times.
~The ever-raging tides of doubt that tell me over and over that while I'm okay at things like singing, drawing, creating, or writing, I'm not actually GOOD at any of them and people are just trying to spare my feelings. These tides are most likely the reason my blog, my stitching, my singing, and pretty much every other hobby I've considered end up being shoved aside to make room for things more suitable to someone who is better off behind the scenes.
~The oh-so-familiar-to-EVERYONE cloud of self-loathing that bursts open every time I walk past a reflective surface, see what I look like now, and my mind instantly brings up images of what I looked like in high school or what the current flavor-of-the-month model or sex symbol actress looks like after she's been photoshopped into fantasy. This is almost certainly to blame for my absolute hatred of clothing shopping of any kind.
This has been going on for so long that Steve once told me he had given up on complimenting me because he got tired of me telling him to stop saying things that weren't true. It was easier for him to simply make himself scarce than to constantly attempt to fight his way through all my insecurities.
I piled more and more activities into my schedule so I wouldn't have to slow down and think about all the ways I was absolutely convinced I was failing everyone around me.
By the beginning of this year, my body was rebelling and I was just plain getting worn out. Rest was out of the question since that first voice I mentioned went into overdrive everytime I sat down, so I just promised myself I was gonna quit everything, tell everyone to get the @#$@%!! out of my life, and drive until I found some little town I could hide in. But, of course, I can't do that until after I complete everything I said I was going to do.
Cue that irritating voice: "So get your lazy backside out of bed and get busy!"
Let me tell you, that's a miserable way to start every single day.
Fortunately, I have one helluva support group full of friends and mentors who have reached out with so much love, understanding, advice, and patience that it's almost overwhelming. All because Steve was willing to make me furious by asking them for the help I was too embarrassed to admit I needed.
So, now you're caught up.
I've been tasked with silencing that nagging voice, ebbing those tides of doubt, and pushing away that cloud of self-loathing. Thus the excursion into personal growth begins. I decided that the best tool I can give myself is a journal where I write down one thing each day that made me proud of myself, whether it was something I did, or something someone told me. When I have rough days, I can look back and hopefully boost myself back up with some of my entries.
As is the case with any major undertaking that is likely to take years, the promise of mistakes along the way looms large.
And as is the case with me on a daily basis, the promise of those mistakes being spectacularly entertaining offers me a plethora of blogfodder!!
Toss in kids, cats, and my personality and there is some serious sarcastic potential here.