Obstacles

Last week, in an effort to make myself dive into some self-exploration, I bought a writing course from Daily Om. Every week, you get a topic to ponder, explore, and to write about. I’m not sure where this trip will take me or if it will give the kind of discovery and growth I’m hoping for, but, for now, let’s get started.

This week’s topic is “Obstacles.”

I have two massive obstacles in my life, currently. The largest, I’d have to say, is myself.

I tend to get in my own way in numerous ways.

It’s funny, to me, how, before I sat down to write this out, my mind was brimming with ideas, yet, now that I’m here doing the damn thing, I’m at a loss for words. Why does that happen? Is that me, yet again, getting in my own way?

I feel like I compare myself to others too much, and, if it seems I’m doing better, then I must be doing something wrong. For example…

I signed up for an online yoga teacher training course. I was doing all the “technical” learning modules, and, on the online support group, everyone was bemoaning how difficult the anatomy section was. Personally, I didn’t struggle with it. I thought it was easy, and I aced the test the first time I took it.

That caused me to worry, though. Everyone else is struggling with it. Maybe I’m not learning it right. Maybe my study method was wrong. Maybe I only studied in order to pass a test and not to truly learn the content. “Everyone else is having a hard time, that means this shit is difficult, so why aren’t YOU struggling? You know, that means you’re probably just doing it wrong.”

And there’s obstacle number 1. I question myself far too much.

In fact, that may be my biggest obstacle. I can’t think of one thing in my life that wouldn’t be better if I just stopped doing that. But how does one accomplish that? I have all the basics down… we fail so we can learn, there’s no shame in not being the best, if at first you don’t succeed… you know, all that happy horseshit. I wholeheartedly believe them for others. For myself? meh… some days yes, some days no.

I read somewhere that anyone can know all the correct and right things to do, but true growth and wisdom comes in the doing of those things.

What about an asshole like me who knows and only does sporadically?

They say habits form after doing a thing x amount of times.

If that was true, I’d be out exercising, improving my finances, and not getting myself into fucked up relationships instead of doing this.

Yet, after waaaaaay more than the x amount of times doing a damn thing, seeing good results, and feeling successful, I just stop. Yet those bad habits linger. Why does my nature not drop a bad habit the same way it drops a good and productive habit?

Good habits are work and bad habits are not.

Which leads me to potential obstacle number 2. Maybe I’m just lazy.

That’s not a pleasant thought. Especially when I consider the myriad ways I bust my ass. But then I consider the myriad ways I really don’t. It’s a mix, so I’m not quite sure I can slap the label of “lazy” on the situation.

I want to do things. I want to know things. I want to be things. I lack the energy, motivation, and know-how involved in getting started. I was never trained in the process of achievement. Of course, that doesn’t mean I couldn’t train myself, but … again … energy, motivation, know-how.

Fear. Maybe it’s fear. I fear failure. I fear success. I fear losing. I fear winning. I fear not winning (I see a difference between “losing” and “not winning”). I fear mediocrity. Maybe, one day, I’ll get to the point where being “nothing” is no longer satisfying. For now, I mostly sit on the sidelines and watch life go on around me. I wonder if I’ll ever go on ahead and dive into the pool of life and swim.

This writing exercise has taught me that, for all the ways I know myself very well, I really don’t know myself all that well. It’s time to dive in and know more. The knowledge I do have is impressive. Most never achieve that kind of self knowledge, and that’s kind of a bummer, but the focus of these exercises is me, so no worrying over what everyone else has and does. I have a wealth of wisdom under my belt. It’s time to apply it.

Stick A Fork In Me

I knew today would be fun. When I say “fun,” mind you, I mean the 180 degree opposite of the textbook definition of “fun.”

Now that we have that clear…

I’m tired.

I’m cranky.

I’m a bit lonely.

I’m tired of being broke all the time.

I’m tired of the people who will say “me too” to that last one but still have the ability to make changes in their lives.

I’m tired of staying home all the time, yet there isn’t any place I want to go.

Winter always gets to me.

I’m constantly cold.

There’s this “thing” in my head that I can’t quite put my finger on, but it is the source of my displeasure and discontent. I don’t know how to figure out what it is, turn it around, and make it work for me instead of against me.

I don’t even have a clear thought for this blog? How’s that?

Know What I Mean?

Well, in the hopes that it may help someone, I committed to sharing about my experiences with therapy. I used to write all the time about my mental processes, and people would tell me how much what I had to say mattered to them, helped them, or made them think. That always made me happy. The last thing I would want is for anyone to feel the way I feel/have felt, and, hey, I’m probably not even a heavy case of “crazy.”

So, today was my first appointment with my therapist. I am going to reserve judgement at this time, but I am pretty sure I’m going to like her. In times past, I never really felt like I could relate to whichever therapist I was seeing or that they could relate to me. For this reason, when I called the clinic to make an appointment, I specifically requested someone closely resembling my demographic (female and within a few years of me, age-wise, either way).

The ability to relate is important to me. The last therapist I saw was some young millennial (not that there’s anything wrong with that), and I always saw her attempts to relate to me as having come from a textbook and not really being genuine. Now, that’s totally on me and is nothing bad about her. But, when I find a scab to pick at, it will be picked at.

Usually, the first appointment or two are intake-type questions, so we didn’t get into anything really heavy. From what I experienced, it seems that we have plenty in common for me to feel comfortable divulging my pent-up crud.

I’m glad I got to meet her on a good day. I was up, happy, and feeling somewhat productive. Maybe next time she will see me when I’m in a slump. That’s important, too because, hey, that’s why I’m there.

So, we will see what comes of this. I hope it’s for the best.

One of Those Days

Dear Auntie:

I was really hoping this would be the month you would decide that you’ve visited me enough over the course of the last 35 years. I mean, you were 3 days late, and there was absolutely nothing else that could have been going on. What gives? Why are you still showing up?

Really. I’ve had enough of you. I don’t like how you interfere with my life, how you mess with my moods, and how much money you’ve cost me over the years. Money in monthly supplies, ruined clothes, and in medications to dull the effects of your arrival. All of it. I’m done. I’m ready for you to go away for good.

Can you be bribed?
Do I have anything you’d like to have?
I’m sure there has to be something.

Go away already, okay?

XOXO
Dissy