It's gonna be THAT day today: where I berate myself for not having paid enough attention to my sketchbook last week, and then for everything in it being garbage, and a waste of time, and what is the point anyway, because if people wanted to see the likes of that which I have made they would simply hie on down to the middle school art classroom and peruse the stuff that wasn't good enough to get taped up on the wall.
SO WHY BOTHER, is what I'm saying. To myself, as I run. (Forty-five minutes, by the way! Longest land run since December! I turned off the distance and pace displays on my watch so I could only keep track of time.) Oh and I got all panicky and was literally flapping my hands in angst when I saw what time it was and WHY WAS I NOT RUNNING YET.
No, I didn't have anything else to do. I just seized upon any opportunity for panic. You would think this stack of papers having to do with school finances and entry requirements would be enough to keep me busy, but those things are too stressful even to panic about so I'm just going to look at them and feel sick.
And I have to do something tonight that I very much want to do and very much do NOT want to do. This thing requires nothing of me. It requires that I sit and drink a beer in a room full of people I don't know (Lord, I hope I don't know them) and not interact, just sit there, but sometimes even the thought of visiting an unfamiliar grocery store is more than I can bear.
Complicating and simplifying matters: this is my hair right now.
The advantages of having a mohawk are that you are forced into strutting around like the badass you aren't, when you don't feel like it, and if you don't talk people think you are snotty and brooding or something, which can be worked to your favor. The disadvantage is that people are definitely going to notice you.
Anyway. I like to do things to force myself outside of my comfort zone, as a tonic, and sometimes I feel up for it and sometimes I don't and it's when I don't that I really NEED it, you know, so tonight I will be charging outside of my comfort zone (and seriously! not doing a damn thing, just sitting in a place!) and maybe that is what's bugging me out today. Or maybe all the Oreos I ate last night. I regret nothing -- it was a lush sensory experience that I can still recall with delight -- but a sugar-fest does give me a bit of a depression hangover.
My bravado is uneven, is what I mean.
I'm thinking there is a problem with the comment section, because no way am I the first to comment here.
But anyway. Negative self-talk. Yeah, I know it well. According to my counselor, I was overly criticized as a kid (and spouse, fyi) and now do it to myself. And last week he said, "You can stop that."
This was a lightbulb moment for me. Maybe I needed permission from someone who thinks highly of me to stop beating myself up?
So if you need to hear it from someone who admires you... you can stop that.
Posted by: Jill | March 11, 2012 at 05:05 PM
bravado and hair, uneven both.
If I copied and pasted all the phrases that resonated, I'd have duplicated a great deal of this post.
How's this, next time I freeze in the middle of a grocery story, may I call you and let you talk me down? And the other way 'round, too?
Posted by: Joanna | March 11, 2012 at 05:47 PM
I'm having one of those times too: negative self-talking me out of doing something that was due on Thursday that now seems like a completely insurmountable task, but one that I'm embarrassed is insurmountable to me, because from an outsider's prospective it's just a dumb little assignment that I could have done well in middle school.
I need to shake the funk. I thought a swim would help, but it didn't and I'm so anxious I could burst, but I am having difficulty putting the anxiety to any kind of use at all.
Posted by: Gretchen V | March 11, 2012 at 05:48 PM
I must say...it is really nice to have proof that you're an ordinary human being. :)
Posted by: Tine | March 11, 2012 at 06:13 PM
PS Listening to Party in the USA by Miley Cyrus is kinda helping for me...
Posted by: Gretchen V | March 11, 2012 at 06:36 PM
And this! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uRQj3SkrkU8
Posted by: Gretchen V | March 11, 2012 at 07:36 PM
Well, we rearranged all the furniture in the house and cleaned some stuff up and BOY did I scream at the kids and I emailed my doctor to see if he had any recommendations for mental health people so I can at least stop wondering if it's something diagnosable. Either it is and then we can deal with it or it's not and I can shut the fuck up about it.
Joanna, of course you should call me if that happens. And I will happily talk you through it. And I will call you too. You probably have an inkling of where I'm headed (to sit! silently!) that I'm so antsy.
If I knew *how* to stop the negative self-talk, I would. The only time it goes away is when I'm feeling OH SO AMAZING AND GREAT AND I'M GONNA DO A MILLION AWESOME THINGS.
I'm starting to wonder if that whole picture might be a little problematic.
Posted by: Jo | March 11, 2012 at 08:32 PM
I like being reminded that your bravado is uneven.
I like the (NEW! to me!) concept that who you feel like on the bad days can co-exist with the person you feel like on the good days. It means I could be having both, right NOW -- that I don't have to wait for a new leaf to be having the good-Jo days.
And I like knowing that I am not the only one who thinks the avoidant thoughts.
Posted by: Meira | March 12, 2012 at 02:12 PM
Am I the only one who is interested in what event you had to go to where you were not required to interact, but were required to sit and drink a beer in a room of (hopefully) strangers?
I'm really intrigued by gatherings of all kinds, both mundane and exciting. I need to know what you were doing!
Posted by: Alicia | March 12, 2012 at 02:36 PM
Haha, Alicia, I went and sat in on an open mic night. (See I have these friends who do storytelling and stand-up and I want to be them when I grow up. :) )
Posted by: Jo | March 12, 2012 at 03:22 PM
Meira and Tine, yeah, you know, it feels terribly risky to admit (so very publicly) to being this mess of a person sometimes, at least internally -- and so I am trying to do it. A lot more. Because most of us are messes, or at least most of the people I care about and resonate with. And I think that to some degree for me at least it's out of that mess that the amazingness comes -- but the mess can get out of hand, too. And start to interfere with the amazingness.
I am trying to figure out where that shaky wiggly line goes, exactly.
Posted by: Jo | March 12, 2012 at 03:25 PM
Ah, ok! I host storytelling and lecture nights, so I'm all over that. (Also, in the world of weird events, I was just at a nine-hour viewing of the entire second season of Work of Art at the Art Gallery of Ontario. I was anxious because there was going to be discussion in between the episodes but then I got there, watched an episode, and remembered that I'm actually a loud mouth with an opinion on everything and very little public shame. Yet whenever something like this happens, I become a ball of nerves and think of myself as someone who never interacts with other humans, something which is patently untrue.)
Posted by: Alicia | March 12, 2012 at 06:41 PM
Wow, this is weird because I'm your fan but I guess I loved your soul alone because I don't think I ever knew you were that glam and stuff. Although it makes sense!
When I panic I wish I could realize I was seizing on any opportunity to panic. No, it always feel fated--like I am panicking for humanity and it is the most rational panic ever.
You are pretty amazing in general. Maybe you just have high standards--this explains it all, actually.
Posted by: snozma | March 12, 2012 at 09:52 PM
I know, Alicia. :) You are included in those I mentioned. Even though we've never met. The internet is more real than the world!
snozma, that is very sweet. And also based on a very carefully chosen photo.
Posted by: Jo | March 13, 2012 at 02:26 PM
"I turned off the distance and pace displays on my watch so I could only keep track of time" - ::happy dance::
Posted by: DoctorMama | March 13, 2012 at 07:31 PM