Today, as I raced home from Staples, black toner in hand for the work Jon needed to print out this morning, I caught a glimpse of myself in a store window: funky brown vintage jacket, cool olive sneaks, big purple scarf, matte silver bag, good hair. From the outside, all was working. I thought about what's been going on the past 2 weeks: TV, interviews, skyrocketing book sales. Not too shabby. And then I thought about Iz in tears on the street at 8:03 because she forgot her sneakers for gym, glaring at me in frustration and disappointment as if I was supposed to magically make them appear in my hands. Jack, at 8:46, calling me out, yet again, for spending too much time on the computer, listing all the things in his life that he's miserable about and how most of them are my fault. I came home at 9:04 to find the printer not responding and having to screen grab a multi-page document so it looks awful but at least Jon can leave having his information in hand. The apartment, which had been pristine yesterday, is now trashed.
No matter what I do, it's not enough.
No matter how much effort I make, how much energy I put in, how much I juggle, manage, fix, placate, soothe, support, it's rare that someone's not disappointed.
Moments of contentment and appreciation are few and far between.
A super wise friend yesterday gave me a suggestion—she said to look at my life from above and see how these situations, these patterns, these people, these feelings, fit together. And perhaps then I could find when I relive certain things over and over. And then, learn how not to go there.
I don't think she meant for me to diagram it out, but I started a sort of map last night, focused first on my family. I listed traits, situations, feelings and saw, before too long, it was almost 100% negative. Whoa. Not necessarily negative traits about them, but how memories, frustrations, fears, insecurities that have been with me most of my life have brought me to this place
And here's what I came up with so far:
• no matter what I do, it's not good enough
• underneath it all, no one really cares very much about me
• I desperately want attention but am terrified of rejection
• I find comfort in the discomfort of righteous indignation
That's where my head is today folks. It's much easier to keep it bottled up and tucked away tightly in the way back of my psyche. But, I keep repeating the same destructive patterns that prevent me from moving forward.
I don't want to be here.
But I can't get to the other side unless I go through.