Being hard on yourself goes one of two ways: You get your stuff together or you lay in bed with a deeper understanding of how much of a failure you truly are. I vacillate, with a natural curvature towards self-loathing. This might be a function of the lazy residing deep in my marrow, or it could be more about the Everest of work that actually stands in front of me every day. Less is more never really resonated with me. Everyone around me sees it. Casual interventions are a part of my day to day life. To say I’m spiraling would be to ignore the decaying orbit that is my relationship with the gravity of self confidence.
In layman’s terms: I have a lot on my plate and the inability to effectively deal with my stuff leads to a lot of self loathing. Such loathing, as I mentioned yesterday, ought to give way to a sense of joy in the opportunity to learn how to better myself. Unfortunately, the fact that I am not already out of this miasma after 40 plus years of life lends credibility to the assertion that I might actually suck at life.
So, what to do? Coming to terms with sucking is hard but does that mean acceptance or does that mean moving forward with a yearning to get it right? So many questions to be answered that it seems to hold me in place, unable to move forward or backward–just laterally. literally.
Some Thoughts:
- After cleaning my carpet my dog has pissed all over the spots that were previously cleaned. Multiple times. Back to the kennel training with you.