I went to a friend's birthday party the other night. And she was with a guy that I have been in love with since I was 15. The friend knew full well I've had feelings for this guy for all these years, yet she loves to rub him in my face, anyway.
I understand why she does it. I've always understood her.
People don't understand why I let her get away with those things. And I won't for long. I'll get sick of it again and cut her off, just as I have in the past. But the reason I put up with her, the reason I let her get away with it is that I understand.
She really does like me. But she also hates me.
As long as other people aren't in the picture, she and I get along fine. But as soon as another person enters the scene, suddenly we're competing to be the best and the center of attention. Only I don't fight. I just smile and be myself, and oh well if that doesn't make the other person see me more than her.
But it does hurt me. Both because she's supposed to be my friend, and because it damages my self-image. I feel for hours and sometimes days afterwards that I'm simply not good enough.
I also see the guy she's now dating for who he really is. He's a very complicated guy, and I have always had the ability to see right through him. Ever since we were kids, I've seen him for what he is. He can charm and fool all the rest of the world, but I always got him. He isn't a smarmy idiot. He isn't a charming, cool person. He isn't nice or friendly.
He's a jerk. He sees the world around him as a giant game of chess, and he's always 6 moves ahead of everyone else. He plays with people's minds and uses words to effect them in ways I've rarely seen anyone able to do. And he's got a strong cruel streak. He likes to hurt people, and he's always been a user. He'll use them up and then move onto the next victim in line.
And I've always refused to be a victim, no matter how I might love him.
He's always been fascinated with me, but also hated me. Because I really see him, while most people don't. They get controlled glimpses, but they don't understand that he only lets them peak in on the parts he knows he can play them into believing won't effect them. I get how he works and that scares him. But it also draws him, because he's never played chess with someone who knows the moves like he does.
Thinking about these two, and how I really see through them into who they really are beneath it all, got me to thinking about character. Characters are a huge part of writing fiction. There is no story if there is no one there to tell it.
Building characters has given me strange insight into how people tick. Because the key to character building (at least in my experience) is backstory. Who are they when the chips are down and the world is going to hell around them? What has happened in their life to shape and mold them into the person they are now? And how will that effect the story I'm telling now?
The same is true in life. If you can look at people, really look without letting emotion blind you, you can see how they tick. You can connect their actions into a much larger framework and see what they have done in the past and what they will do in the future.
It's a very useful skill. It's also a fun game, if you get the hang of it.
Unlike the boy I love, however, I can't just play with people and act like it has no consequences. Seeing how it all fits together has given me deep insight into how my actions effect others, too. What I do to this person will affect their future choices, and I don't want to make them more broken than they already are.
I want to make them better.
I feel very alone today. Partially my own fault, of course. Thoughts of that boy I fell for came up yesterday and I couldn't resist looking him up on facebook last night.
And, of course, I looked straight into the pictures of him with his new girlfriend, happy and living his dream.
On the one hand, I'm so glad he's happy. On the other, I hate that he couldn't be happy with me. Is there something wrong with me that I can't find that special someone?
And then I logged onto my new fictionpress account to see if anyone had read the 2 poems I posted yesterday. Only 1 of them had a review. It was a good review, but still. It felt as though my goal to become a better writer and get people to read my work was utterly unattainable.
Plus, no one commented on my blog recently. Mark usually does so, and I have to say, he's probably the only reason I've been able to keep a lot of this going. I need help from other people to stay strong, whether I like it or not.
I even put myself out yesterday and visited a whole bunch of other sites. I commented, I followed, and I spent time working on this whole blog follower thing.
Still no follows or comments. :( My picture looks so lonely and sad sitting on that list all by itself.
I apologize if I sound all whiny. But I feel like whining a little today. My ego took a real beating over the last 2 days, and now I just want to go to sleep and forget all about this life change thing. My life held less disappointment in it when I wasn't trying all new things all the time.
Of course, it also held far less success.
And I know that. Logically speaking, anyway. But my emotional brain is urging me to call it quits right now, because it doesn't like this pain I'm feeling. It sucks when 2 parts of your own mind are fighting against each other. And it's exhausting.
Well, I'm not calling it quits. But I am going to go to sleep and see if tomorrow could be a better day than today was. Good night, everybody, and I hope you're feeling far less lonely than I am tonight.
I never realized how much I hated myself until today.
I've been told over and over again throughout my life that I'm a very positive, calm person. I make other people feel good. I'm so upbeat. I have nicknames like sparkles, sunshine, giggles, bubbles, and feathers. People think I'm happy and sweet and fun.
And I am all of those things. For other people. But not for me.
I say and do nice things for others. And yet I tell myself, over and over again, that I'm not good enough. That I'm not motivated, hard working, determined, dominant, or even sweet enough. I beat myself up for every flaw. Worse, I come up with excuses for the things I do wrong just to screen over the feelings of self-hatred they evoke. I tell myself that it's okay that I didn't get up and do my work for the day; I wasn't born with that kind of motivation nor was I trained to do it. It's okay that I didn't stand up for myself when my mother put me down; I can't stop her from thinking what she wants and there's nothing I could say that would change her position anyway. It's okay that I wasted my day off from work watching television; I needed the down time, I was so exhausted.
You get the picture.
But, underneath the excuses, self-hatred eats away at me, crumbling my resolve and abilities even more. I hate myself for not getting up and doing my work, no matter the reason. I hate myself for not standing up to my mother when she's railroading me. I hate myself for sitting in front of a television all day while my writing lays on the table, unfinished.
I just hate myself.
Which is ridiculous! I'm a great person. Not perfect, by any means. But I am a great person. I make other people feel good about themselves, help them find solutions to their problems, not by telling them what they want or need, but by advising them to find what they themselves want or need, and I support people emotionally through difficult times. I'm fun, upbeat, and I make other people feel good.
And if there are some things about myself I don't like, well, that's okay, too. I'm only human. I'll never be perfect. But I can change what I don't like.
But first I have to accept it. It is what it is. I am who I am, both because of what has been done to me and what I have done to myself. There is no real way to change who I am in this moment. But there is a way to change who I will be tomorrow. And that starts right now.
If I don't like something about myself, fine. Change it. But to change it, you have to acknowledge it, accept it, and then refine it.
It seems, however, that my brain hasn't quite gotten the memo. My inner critic constantly undermines my belief in myself. I'll be going through my morning routine and suddenly I hear my own voice whispering in my mind: You're just not good enough. And with just those five little words, my body aches, my muscles tensing together like they took a real blow. My heart breaks, and a rush of overwhelming sadness sweeps through me. Because I believe it. I believe that I'm just not good enough. Not good enough for another person to love, not good enough to reach my goals, not good enough to live a real life.
If someone else said such things to me, I'd blow a gasket. And I'd tell them just what bridge they could go jump off of, for all I'd care. But for my own mind to say such things? How could I be my own worst enemy?
So, on this journey to change, I found another part of me that is going to have to alter for my dream to become a reality. From now on, whenever I think I'm not good enough, I have a ready retort for my inner critic to face:
I'm better than enough.
Daily Stats:
- Exercised, stretched, meditated, and worked on writing twice today.
- Wrote in journal, stayed on budget, and wrote one poem today.
- Posted a blog entry.
- Did a load of dishes and cleaned in bathroom.
I never thought about motivation before I read this quote. It hit me hard. I had always thought how I lacked motivation and drive, because I didn't strive for my goals the way people said I should if I did have those things. Obviously, I was just born lacking them.
But motivation isn't something you're born with. And it isn't something you can just acquire and use to change your life.
It's something you have to make for yourself. And then remake it. And remake it again. Remake it over and over and over again, every day, for the rest of your life. As the quote says, it's like bathing. Without a shower, we'd all start to stink to high heaven. Well, without a daily dose of motivation, we'd all lay around doing nothing of any import. Until we starved to death, that is.
Some motivations are so hard-wired into us, that they DO come naturally. I think that's because if we didn't have motivation to get up and eat, drink, or have sex, we really would just lay down and die.
But if your goals go beyond your basic needs for survival, those hard-wired motivations will do little to help you achieve them. If you want to motivate yourself towards that, you must work out your own motivation and concentrate time and thought on it daily. Place reminders of it throughout your home and especially in areas where you find yourself most tempted to stray from your goals.
I love sticky notes for this. I have them on my door, tv, mirror, and dresser. Pretty much scattered throughout the room. And every time I look at one of those things, I'm reminded about my goals and why I want to achieve them.
Wanna know my motivation? Honestly, I've always WANTED to be a writer. I've dreamed and dreamed about getting published, living a happy, healthy life that made other people who had looked down on me see what I was truly made of, and escaping the life I live now. But I never seemed to be able to change my dream into a reality.
Until I met a boy. I trusted him. I loved him. And he crushed my heart like a tin can. It drove me into one of the deepest, darkest depressions of my life. For one entire month, it seemed all I did was sit in front of the tv and veg out. Or snap at my parents. Or go to work and struggle with dealing with my customers with a smile.
I got madder and madder about all of this. I had long ago determined I would never grow so dependent on another person that I would be lost without them. I could miss them, want them back, and even cry a little. But I could never allow my life to end because of them.
And, for all intents and purposes, I had done just that. I'd let myself become so depressed that my life seemed dark and terrible.
So, I came up with a plan. First, I was angry with the boy. I wanted to prove I was good enough for him or anyone else I wanted. Which lead me to my decision to follow my dreams again and pursue my writing.
But I'd tried that path before, many times, and failed. Over and over and over again, I failed. What would make this time any different?
Well, I couldn't stay where I was. Not without hating myself forever for giving in to the dark feelings and letting that stupid boy have that much power over me. Nuh-uh. Not me. I was going to get out of this depression, pursue my passion, and prove once and for all I had the stuff to be successful.
So, I did some research. Turns out, regular exercise, daily meditation, a healthy diet, and an organized environment were all contributing factors towards successful goal achieving. Everything said to start slow, and while I wanted to follow the advice, my gut said that if I didn't apply all those changes now, I wouldn't stick with my plan long enough for the slow build-up to work.
And that's my motivation, folks. Because I want to be a strong, independent, and successful woman who doesn't give in when depression and bad circumstances hit her. I want to be the me I always dreamed of. I want to be happy, with or without another person to lean on.
I continue on each day, because I found that the journey I planned out towards happiness, has made me happier than I ever thought possible. It dug me out of a bad depression and gave me the will to survive and thrive once again.
That is, after all, the power of motivation.
Daily stats:
1. Exercised, stretched, meditated, and worked on writing twice today.
2. Wrote a journal entry and worked on budget
3. Wrote and posted my blog entry
4. Picked up room and folded and put away laundry.
