Here’s Some Truth For Ya

I admit it. I’m a big baby. I admit that I am afraid of needles. I admit that I am afraid of the dark. I admit that I have both rational and irrational fears. I admit that my fears have distracted me at times and that my anticipation of a situation is often worse than the situation itself.
I admit that I have given way to procrastination. I admit that I have submitted, forfeited, sabotaged, self-destructed and self-medicated to placate the symptoms of a problem that was buried beneath my behavior.

What is this?
Fear: Distressing emotions
Impending danger, reverential awe
Overwhelmed and overcome
Buried beneath the flood of thoughts:
Emotions
Ideas
Worries
Trapped by the deception of our perception

Why is this?
Where does all of this come from?
Is this from our misperceptions of ourselves?
Or is this a worry that connects to rejective thinking?

I have never been sure why we punish ourselves as much as we do. It has never been clear to me why our standards are set the way we set them. Why do we forgive some things but not all things? Why do we cling to the weight of things that cause us to sink or drown in our own emotional quicksand?

We have this natural tendency (or so it seems) to connect with faults and flaws more than we do our talents and benefits, which only draws us under.
We lose ourselves in these silly little comparisons; this one is bigger and that one is stronger. We compare our beauty as if beauty could be rated or compared, when in fact, nothing compares.
No one compares. We are all unique. We are all individuals. Our talents differ and vary. And instead of celebrating our differences, we miscalculate them. We dismiss our quality by comparing them to others. 

We have tools to improve. We have natural ability. We have talents. We have thoughts and opinions, joys, drives, visions and dreams. We have resources. We have ways to learn.
We have ways to improve and recreate ourselves at any given moment. We can start over. We can start from scratch. We can build from the ground up but yet, for some reason, we are attached to our creations as if our creations are a symbol of our identity.
Why is it that identity means everything?
We are more than this. We are more than a position at work or a job title. We are more than a position in this world. We are more than more. We are built perfectly with everything we need to survive and succeed. 

The truth is things go wrong. The truth is life does not play fairly and things will not go as planned. The truth is not everyone is going to like me or you. And not everyone is going to agree. Then again, not everyone is going to dislike us or disagree either. So, act accordingly.
Not everything’s a competition. They say that nice guys finish last. I say this is only true because nice guys don’t need to win the race to have the race become their identity.

I admit it.
I’m afraid to lose. I admit that I am afraid of rejection. I admit that I have social anxiety. I have anxiety attacks. I have depressions and depressive thinking that interrupts my day.
I admit that my mind has the ability to wander. I admit that I have the ability to sabotage and self-destruct. I have tugged on the threads of my personal sanity, which only unravel and become worse to eventually drive me insane.
I admit there are times when I have to say the word, “STOP!” out loud because my mind starts to run away from me. 

I admit this is all a symptom and so are my behaviors.
I admit this honestly and openly because otherwise, the thoughts only grow heavier. My insecurities only gain momentum.
My thoughts run away because deep inside is this thing; I have this thing, which is all I know how to describe it. It is more than me and my thoughts. This is my truth. And people fear the truth. People fear the work it takes to deal with the truth, which is above and all; we are all perfectly imperfect. Overthinking and underappreciating ourselves is only a road that leads towards personal rejection

I like the word “STOP!”
I use it to command the machine in my head that sometimes spins out of control. I use the word to command that little child in me, afraid he won’t get his way; afraid he will be rejected or hurt, and afraid he will be alone, unloved, unnurtured, and unwanted. So I say “STOP!” because none of this is true.

Sometimes I have to say “STOP!” pretty loud though.
Otherwise, my mind doesn’t listen.

I had to do this on the morning bus into Port Authority once. I growled through my teeth and said “STOP!” somewhat loud.
Poor guy next to me jumped and apologized.
I told him, “Don’t mind me. I’m just crazy sometimes.”

Somehow, I don’t think that made him feel better.
But the laugh was enough to be helpful with my anxiety attack . . .

Stop holding yourself to inaccurate standards.
We are absolutely perfect the way we are.
It’s situations that are not perfect.
But us, me and you?
We are absolutely fine!