Self-Pep 2

I wanted to get this blog done before I go to work for two reasons: the first being the benefit of having it done when I come home tonight, allowing me to just dive into my short stories, and the second is because I need to unpack this little shadow following me around.

You see, yesterday I felt manic at work. Like I was moving too fast, trying to get too much done with too much speed—and it was unwarranted. The pace of the day didn’t require the speed I was moving at, but luckily, I realized that early on. Now I’m wondering if the speed was an unconscious bid to keep everything else at bay, because as soon as I started to breathe, the negative thoughts came flying back to me. The worst side effect of all of this though, is that I run my mouth and wind myself up. It’s the absolute worst part of these moods I get into, and it usually leads to an evening of playing the day through in my head and feeling ashamed about it all.

I wish that I could find a place where I’m always able to remember to think before I speak, but it just seems like that’s not how I do things. No matter how hard I try, I find myself just reacting, whether it be with my words, my emotions—hell, one favorite office pastimes is “make Joel blush,” because of it. I feel locked out of emotional processing because of my insect brain. I read once that some bugs don’t have brains, their bodies are just controlled by impulses—but it could have been jellyfish. I’m not sure—it was some animal, but I feel like that sometimes. Like the brain is just along for the ride, recording it all so it can show me how much of a dummy I was throughout the course of the day.

All these feelings make me think I’m backsliding into the space of self-abuse again. Not so much in a physical sense, but in a mental state. There’s a lot of negative self talk bouncing around in my head lately and I can’t seem to break free. One of the reasons for the lack of outfit mentions in these posts is because I absolutely hate the way I look these days. Nothing has changed with me—hell one of the last times I saw my ex, she grabbed my face and said I’m wasting away, but in the mirror, I see a man that just annoys the life out of me.

I’ve gotta start working out or something. It feels like the only thing I have left to fight against the grey that comes with the winter—that, or maybe get a shock collar that reminds me to breath if my heart rate goes above a certain level. Oh, that’s not a bad idea. I’ll have to look into that.

So, my farewell message to myself is this: you’re your own harshest critic and no one scrutinizes you the way you do. Push that out of your head and listen to the people around you: they’re right, you’re wrong. You’ve got a cute ass outfit picked out for today and you get to relive that liberated feeling of no undershirt. You got this—you pick other people up around you all the time, but you never tell yourself what you tell them: you are appreciated. You are special, you are great.

See you tomorrow.