Saturday, 26 December 2015

That dreadful lack of self-esteem that says you are weak, incapable and unworthy

I had an expectation and I was aware that as all other expectations, it could come with either one of the two prices: satisfaction or disappointment. And of course it always comes with disappointment because to expect is to sometimes think a bit too naive and wishful.

One thing my inner critic is always asking, is why I would even rely on others in the first place. Why I would underestimate what I am capable of. Why I then blame the people I rely on for the turn of events I apparently had no influence over. Why - of all things - I would still hope for the best when hoping leads to nothing but more expectations and disappointment.
Why I wouldn't just actively do things.

I was in the middle of my assignment paper but I had to interrupt myself after feeling like I have to crash out through the front door and just go.
I can't continue with this work because I need to think about why it even came to this. And if I have to turn to writing to sort my thoughts out then I have shut myself out of talking to anyone else about this.

I came to the conclusion that the most important thing I need right now is acceptance. My own acceptance of who I am, where I am, how I am, what I do and how I do it. Acceptance of my own thinking. And all this so I do not have to rely on others in the first place.

Just perceiving this clingy feeling is atrocious. Like strands of mucus and sweat between your legs, sticking itching and crusting as they dry. I need to get rid of it.

Do you ever feel and hear this dreadful lack of self-esteem that keeps telling you that you are weak, incapable, incompetent, under-priviledged, crippled or unworthy? How do you deal with it?

I try to write it out as a last resort to getting my sanity back. But it always manages to push my anger and bullshit meter off the charts. I refuse to feel that way but if it takes over then I end up blaming other people, fighting and arguing with them and making a complete fool of myself.

With all due respect to myself, I refuse to forget that I harness patience and thoughtful reflection. Not aggression, verbal abuse, and vindictive blaming. It is in that moment when you feel like you're a loser and resent upon it; that is when you become a monster.

Evil is not born, it is made. And it lies in your capability as well as in mine, in accepting our own selves and instead of resenting who we are, we promote it, become proud of it, use it, specialize in it, make it your own, inspire others with your ways. Some of us can accept more things about themselves than others can - that is true. But why bother about what others can and cannot do? Why should I compare myself to others? If to be better, then by all means. But to bring myself down so I can be miserable? No.

Why don't I just stick to what I can do. Without competition. Shape it, refine it, claim it as my own. This is MY normal. Once I accept it, I wouldn't want to part from it. I would defend it from others who try to crumble it. I would stand my ground. I wouldn't expect things that make no promises. I wouldn't cling onto another person, another idea, another belief… in hopes for "the best". I wouldn't behave as if I were desperate.

Gandalf once said, "Not all who wander are lost."

So I wander if through wander is where I find orientation, structure and time. To think that this is unacceptable is to disown my entire journey towards learning. Everybody has a different journey. So to let anyone think that this is not up to standards, that I am lost, disoriented, uneventful, dull, slow is to allow my own suicide. I don't owe my life to any other person other than to my late father and I would not let the fact that he saved me from drowning as a child be in vain. If I meant that much to him then I must have been worth more than he could ever imagine. It would be a shame to not recognize this so no way.

I don't know why I care so much about what other people think. In some cases I can see why, but in most cases I don't really know. When would I care so much about what I think?
I am allowed to be hurt, to be angry, to be sad, to say no, to be independent and to silence any critic who tries to terrorize to my soul. I may be learning but someday I will master this.

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