The Hope Neuron

I have to admit, I barely know what I’m doing here. Or what I should be doing. Or if any of this is truly a good idea. Getting the negative ideas that are trying to shut me down out of my head is a tall order.

I don’t feel ready. Does that make any sense? I want to be moving forward and yet I feel like I’m not truly prepared to do it. But what does that even mean? When is a good time when you’re trapped in avoidance and procrastination? It’s never a good time.

Skewed though they may be, I do have priorities and I think that means leaning into them to start this whole forming of habits thing. My writing has to come first. So even if I slack off in other places, I think I can feel good about getting my creativity flowing again.

There’s so much indecision buzzing around my head right now. Does it seem ridiculous that even making this commitment feels like a win somehow? I tell myself: “Yes, you did something! You’ve begun.” And truly? Though it may seem like such a minor development, looking these issues in the face is, in fact, a positive step.

What troubles me right now is the idea of cultivating patience along with progress. I just made the first step. Just barely, and already I wish I had something to show for it. Something more. Typical, in a way. I want to be proud of myself, but as of yet I have nothing tangible to latch onto.

It may seem egotistical, or self-absorbed, but I think a big part of the problem is that I am not focused inwards enough. I’m still so worried about outside approval or disapproval. I am compulsively a people-pleaser, even though I am well aware that I can’t make everyone happy.

I need to find some way to truly own this journey. To make it for me and not for some abstract version of what other people might expect. I have to take responsibility for my goals so that they truly are mine. The only way I can think of, at the moment, is to keep reminding myself of this. It seems like such a simple thing but I feel like it is so often forgotten.

“You control you.”

That’s what I’ve been trying to tell myself. It’s a reminder that I am the one who forges my path, but it’s also a reminder that I don’t control anyone else’s opinions. I can’t control them, and I wouldn’t even want to. I have to do what I am capable of, whenever I can.

I can’t pretend that I don’t care what other people think, or that words can’t hurt me. All I can do is reinforce my own beliefs. Someone has to care about how I feel, so it might as well me be. I don’t mind being a little selfish if that means I can be a better person in the long run.

Today is a weird sort of day. I don’t want to waste it but at the same time I don’t want to burn myself out trying to do a bunch of things at once. This weekend, I have obligations to people I care about. So what do I do with my goals? Do I skip weekends? Or do I count them and face the fact that I’m not going to have a perfect “record”? That seems like the better bet, considering that admitting my flaws is part of the point.

…I just realized that I’ve already messed up today, a bit. I was supposed to contact an organization to help me with meal planning. They are going to advise me on how to handle my diabetes. I forgot that I was supposed to call. For today, it’s too late now, and for the weekend, they won’t be reachable anyway.

It’s kind of the essence of avoidance, isn’t it? When something has a negative emotion surrounding it, I end up pushing it down subconsciously. The more stress or dread attached to the issue, the harder it is to keep it in mind. Even when I want to remember. Even when I know that it’s important, for my own benefit or ultimately unavoidable. When life is this wrapped up in avoidant behavior, there’s no such thing as unavoidable. It becomes the absolute truth. Anything and everything can slip my mind.

And then, of course, I feel terrible for having let it happen. I blame myself for being stupid or weak. I let the guilt sink its teeth in, which then painfully highlights my failure and makes it even harder to keep a commitment next time. Because then, my brain goes: “Remember how you screwed up?” “Remember how you couldn’t get it together last time?” “Remember how useless you are?”

And yes, that, I tend to remember. It feeds in nicely into the instinct of “this is why we don’t deal with things… because things make us feel terrible.”

I don’t want this. I don’t want to be this way. I don’t want it for myself and I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone else. One of the hardest parts of trying to get better is trying to reconcile between the knowledge that the behavior needs to change and the reality that the behavior doesn’t make me a bad person. I want to feel better. I want to do better. But I don’t want to feel like I’m tearing myself down in the process.

It’s frustrating trying to walk that middle path. I’m still figuring out how to do it.