Friday, July 3, 2009

Flush it out.

In the midst of all of this I am striving to be extraordinary.

There's a lot of ways to read that...but what I mean is that I strive to realize all of those wild ideas that are in my head...even while I'm learning to weed out the stinkers. I strive to meet the challenges set by extraordinary women that came before me, without burning myself out. I strive to turn around look at what I have accomplished and go "wow, cool, a nap has been earned!". Lol.

I feel like I'm on my way there...and really, part of the reason for figuring out what to do with my wiiilllld brain was exactly that...I realized I was living life in a very busy but very superficial way, and that I was beginning to drown under the details that nobody knew I was ignoring...and I didn't know how to fix it. Often even I didn't even stop long enough to let myself realize how many details were left undone. And I knew that I had already tried other tactics...addressing my hypoglycemia, trying to make more thoughtful choices, trying to not get frustrated with the slow pace of progress...trying to make myself sit down to take care of business, with limited success.

But I had created obstacles for myself. I am expert at immediate damage control, but did not know how to plan long term and I was surrounded by piles both literal and figurative. And there was nobody to blame but myself.

And here I am sitting here, chemically, mercifully slowed, and trying to figure out what to do next. Alone with the things I really think about myself. Despite my native drive and energy, my projects, my ideas, my intelligence and my nearly constant working...I genuinely believe that I am lazy. That I am odd. That there is something wrong with me. That leisure time is, at best, a guilty pleasure. That there is no other way I will achieve what I want. And I don't even know why I think these things. But the chemical wash helps me be more still with these feelings. It helps me work through the piles instead of adding to them. And each pile I search through and sort pushes some button that forces me to acknowledge my delusions.

Some days, an earned anxiety compels me to avoid the work for a little while, drives me too far inward. Ultimately my usual impatience serves me--there are always upsides to downsides--and I will dive into a pile, reminding myself that I don't have to fix the WHOLE PILE now.

It hurts my heart in the good way, exposing these illogical beliefs I hold about myself.

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