Criticize Me Some More!

Not everyone has to work hard for what they have. Just those that really deserve it.

At least, that's what I'm trying to tell myself lately. I'm feeling less than motivated this season, seeing as I've been pretty sick and had lots of personal troubles to trip me up. But that's life, right?

I'm still deciding most of my new plan for changing things. It seems I'm in excess of things I want to change, but not in the time it takes to change them. Hmm. Sacrifices are going to have to be made. Life will have to change.

Have I ever expected it to come easily? Did I ever expect making myself into something great to come naturally, without effort or work?

In that vein, I'd like to ask you, dear readers, for your opinions. Please tell me of any and all flaws you see in my writing. And hold nothing back! I welcome your criticism. I won't lie and say it won't sting, but it's for a good cause: my own self-improvement.

So, please, criticize away!

Victim No More

I've lost sight of my goals and my desires so many times. And far too often I blame the things that happen to me. Of course, those things do effect me. But they effect my mind, and that is the true ruling factor of my life.

I have been a victim of my mind my whole life. I've let it lead me away from the things I truly want. I've let it deviate my course, cut me down right when I begin to see the beauty of success, and I have no one to blame but myself.

Such strange creatures we are. A bag of chemicals and electrical impulses sharing space with this strange thing we call consciousness. And yet, our consciousness has such limited control over those chemicals and electrical impulses. They do what they were made to do, and sometimes that is much to our detriment. Consciously, we see what we want and do what we can to get it. But our minds, they are such fickle things. I often wonder: of what use is consciousness, if we do not even understand what we are trying to control?

But I digress. The point is, our own minds are usually our greatest enemy when it comes to the quests of the soul. I want to be and do so many things. But my mind and body keep getting in the way. Is there a way to bring these two things into balance? A way to synchronize what I want with what I have?

I'm determined to try. Dear readers, if you're still out there, reading this, I want you to know: I haven't given up. My vision of how to get where I want to be has changed quite a lot since I last posted here. Even some of the idea of WHAT I want has changed. But I'm still here, working away, trying to change, and make myself into a better person.

I'm only human, and that's something I'm going to have to come to terms with. But, somehow, my conscious mind is going to make this bag of chemicals and electrical impulses follow this quest to the end. It may be a twisted path, but I am determined to walk it.

A Debt Of Happiness

I've been listening to my friends lately. A lot of them are having a lot of problems in life. What drives me crazy is how they complain about it, do nothing, and just make themselves more miserable in the complaining.

Now, I like to talk. So, I talk about my problems, too. I talk about my good days, I talk about my bad days, and I talk about the incredible days, whether those be incredibly bad or incredibly good. I especially talk about the things that make good stories. I complain, too. Boy, do I complain. But I laugh as I complain, find the humor and then do something. And I ALWAYS stay determined to be happy, regardless of what life throws at me.

I have moments where I can't find a way to make myself be happy, but they never last long. I perk back up, and I fight another day.

You see, a long time ago, I learned something. The world is not going to make me happy. Life is not going to make me happy. People are not going to make me happy. Any happiness I ever find in those things, will be short-lived and inter-spaced with so much pain, I might even forget it ever existed.

But I can make MYSELF happy, no matter what.

In the end, it's each and every one of us' job to ensure our own happiness. The world does not owe us that happiness. Life does not owe us happiness. Other people do not owe us happiness. It's nice if those things see fit to give it to us, but it certainly isn't owed. The only person meant to make you happy, is you.

If you can find an opportunity to be happy in every difficulty, you'll always be happy. And there is always an opportunity. You just have to look.

Motivation

It's hard to tell the difference between motivation and ability sometimes. So often, if I lose all motivation, I say I can't do it. And I can list a whole host of reasons why I can't do it, too.

But the truth is, I can. I just don't really want to.

Which sounds horrible. The truth often does, of course, but there you have it. I don't want to get back on track and do my routine again.

I have a lot of motivation to achieve what I want. Sometimes. But then something happens, and suddenly I don't care. Nothing really matters to me for a while, and I have to drag myself out of the depressing pit where nothing matters, and back to the motivated, want-to-succeed person I really am.

I got my motivation back a short while ago. I started my routine back up. I hadn't quite made it to the blogging stage when the boy who raped me came back to my place of work and asked me if I was pregnant.

And just like that, motivation dropped to nothing.

I hate to admit something like this has such power over me. I hate to think how just a single meeting can change the course of my life completely. I want to believe I have control over my emotions and thus control over my life.

And life likes to remind me otherwise. Frequently.

I've decided to stop trying to force motivation. I need to recognize it when I have it, and jump on my work like no one's business, but I don't think I'll ever be able to completely control my emotions or life. And I do believe I'm going to get this train wreck of a change back on track and start achieving things again. I promise.

Just watch me go.

Self Worth

We all have insecurities. We all feel less than what we think we should be. But do you value yourself?

Sometimes, I think I do. But there's always been this little voice inside of me that says I'm not good enough, says that I do everything wrong, and makes me believe I'm worthless. I've wrestled with it all of my life, and I don't think I'm alone in this particular fight. Most people seem to fight with their insecurities every day.

Through meditation, I learned to listen and then deny that voice and it's power. But since my routine has NOT been resurrected as I intended, I can honestly say that I've fallen back into the same insecurities.

Talking to a friend has helped me see why I don't want to be like this. He makes me feel crushingly insecure, but that isn't what opened my eyes.

It's his way of dealing with his own insecurities that showed me what's wrong with how I am now dealing with mine.

He once had people he confessed his problems to, but they shut him down and abandoned him when he needed them most. He once had people who made him hate himself. And then he finally kicked them out of his life.

But instead of dealing with the cuts in his soul that these people left behind, he let them fester. Now, he's become much like the people he refuses to think or talk about. Anyone mentions their problems, he shuts them down, because he believes everyone should deal with their own problems. Anyone makes him feel in the slightest inferior, he shuts them out, and turns that same feeling back on them.

I am the first to admit I have many scars upon my soul. But they are scars. Flaws in the framework of my inner self, but they have closed and healed. I haven't allowed infection to settle and infect the rest of my soul. And while more cuts continue to be added to the number, each one is carefully tended and given what it needs to heal.

This boy does not have that. His cuts have never healed, and if he doesn't change sometime soon, I'm afraid that he's going to die of them.

And trying to help him has shredded my self-worth like nothing I've done before. I'm finally to a point where I have to back off and tend my own wounds. I feel guilty, like I should keep on trying to save this guy from himself, but I know this isn't really my responsibility. But my emotions about myself are. And I need to help myself feel better again.

How can I help anyone else if I don't help myself?

Working On Routine

Routine is the secret to success for me. I know it. I have proven it. I have lived it.

But it's so hard to put into practice.

I want to write every day again. I want to wake up and run most days. I want to feel limber and relaxed again. I want to remember calm, instead of trying to create it all the time. And I desperately want to see the progress I was making renewed.

So, my routine must return. But everytime I make a deadline for the day it has to be reenacted, I find some excuse to put it off another day. And another. And another.

Because tomorrow is a day that never comes. Saying "I'll do it tomorrow." is as good as saying "I don't want to do it at all."

The fact is, I want to see that beautiful progress I was making, but I don't want to put in the effort the routine costs. Which is funny, because it didn't feel like much effort while it was happening. At least, not until I added a whole bunch more to my routine.

But it's time to get off my butt and start this life change back up again. I'm tired of excuses and silly self-pity. I want to feel myself living again!

Here's hoping I can survive the ride.

Sorta Sane

So I disappeared after my nervous breakdown a bit. I know I'm not doing so well, because I can't write. I sit at the computer, pull the book up and just stare at it blankly for a long time. Not because I don't know where to go from here but because it just doesn't feel like the words are in me anymore.

Which is crazy. I know the words are there. I just can't seem to reach them.

But I have some good news. I read some pretty risque books on occasion, and since the rape I haven't been able to. But yesterday I made myself get a really rough one about a woman like me who was recovering from a severe rape who subsequently fell in love and found peace. Strangely, the book was better therapy than just about anything I've done so far.

My coworker and I are also getting along better. I had to go to our boss and report things, but we're dealing now. So that front looks better. 

And boys are still hitting on me and pressuring me to go out with them, which I'm just not ready for.

Beyond the recent trauma, I have a hard time finding men who I click with. I guess I'm a little picky. I need to feel passion with them, need to be able to hold intelligent conversations with them, and they need to be able to call me on my crap sometimes.

Looks are not required. Appreciated, but not required. Money is not required. A nice perk, but again, I don't really care. I just need to FEEL when I'm with them, instead of having that cold logic dominating my personality.

I wish I could write my book again. I feel the words inside me, wanting to be unleashed. It feels like something is in the way right now, though. And I'm not sure if it's my personal problems or a story problem.

Anyway, thought I'd get on here and let you all know that I am coping and dealing with things in my own way. I don't like how depressed I've been lately and I'll soon be dragging my butt back out of it. But right now, I just don't have the energy to.

Tomorrow will be a new day. Right?