And it’s fear. That’s all. It’s a long conversation in the mind that tells about something wrong. That’s what it is. This is us in the world, saying “who cares?” Meanwhile, we find ourselves caught in the wheels of acceptance. We find ourselves looking for a pattern or a path where we can fit and be fine.
I say this because I see no reason to deny that we often turn inward. We blame ourselves. We act first and think later. We want to understand and we want to have answers. Then finally, we come to a moment of awareness.
Our assumptions will often turn inwards; in which case, we assume the problem or the challenge is us. Maybe we’ll ask ourselves, “Is it me?”
“Did I do something to deserve this?”
Maybe we’ll own the rejection of something that’s happened. Maybe our plans fell apart. Or, maybe we struggle with the idea of karmic debt, which is why things fall apart; therefore, we assume that this is what we deserve. Rather than face evidence with our strategic mind and realize that sometimes two things do not match or that sometimes life just happens; instead, we’ll have to navigate and dissect every detail until our rejection finally makes sense. But here’s the trick: rejection is nothing more than smoke and mirrors. Better yet, rejection isn’t even real unless we make it real.
However, there is an idea in the mind. There is a need for reward. There is a need for relief. There is a need to be wanted and chosen. There is a need to feel good or to be happy. Yet, there are times when people are stuck in the idea which says, “What goes around, comes around” and for some people, including myself, there is a trained belief that suggests their position will always be in the underbelly of this cycle.
Therefore, this form of thinking would lead us to believe that this is the best our life can be. Therefore, anything we do is done for the sole purpose of survival. Otherwise, we’ll always miss out or have to settle for less – all the time.
There is no reason to deny that depression lives. There is no reason to deny that anxiety fuels our emotional selections. More to the point, there is cause to show that most people live with the ideas of Impostor Syndrome – and to them, there’s a fear that somewhere, someday, someone is going to reveal the truth about them.
For them, the truth is that deep down, there is a fear that someone will expose their imperfections to render them as meaningless. That one day, they will face shame and humiliation. In fact, more than 75% of people live with Impostor Syndrome.
What does this really mean?
Put simply, this means we’re insecure.
It’s really that simple.
This means we’re afraid that we don’t fit or that we’re not enough. So, we try to prove ourselves. We look to prove our case and justify our position.
This means we will often over-sell ourselves or talk more than we need to; as if to mean that we have to prove our worth and approval. Otherwise, we’ll be rejected.
This means we’re hoping that our inadequacies will not be revealed, that no one will see the tiny cracks in our alter-self or uncover the person we pretend to be. God forbid . . .
I used to think that quiet people were uncomfortable, which may be true in many cases. However, I have changed my beliefs. I have come to the realization that those who truly believe that they have nothing to prove are comfortable in their silence. They don’t need to justify themselves. What an amazing freedom this must be.
I used to think that it was always necessary to point out when something (or someone) was wrong. I thought that I had to support my position or defend my opinion yet, there is no need for this.
I came to the understanding that my beliefs are subjective and rather than be rigid or adamant about all that I believe, I’ve chosen to allow myself the right to update my thinking which gives me the freedom to learn or change my mind.
I go back to the “alter-self.”
I go back to the person I was – or better yet, I go back to the person I assumed I was. I go back to my thinking or my belief system. I go back to the emotional warfare and the emotional hostages. I go back to the belief that I had to protect myself at all times. I go back to the acronym, which I learned at a very young age and I believed what was preached to me – D.T.A. (Don’t Trust Anyone). It’s not that trust should be given away lightly; however, my trust is invested differently now. First, by starting with me. I’ve learned to trust myself more. Second, I understand the reasons why I placed my trust in places where it didn’t belong.
I found myself alone in my life; but more than this, I came to a realization that the reason I was alone was because of me. This was because of my choices and my thinking errors. This was because I built walls instead of bridges and that each time I burned a bridge, I had forgotten how costly wars can be.
This was due to my belief system and my preconceived notions. This was all part of my subconscious programming that led me to inaccurate predictions.
I had to face the hard facts: The reasons for my moments of despair or unhappiness were part of my pathology – or science.
This was due to my worries and my fears in connection with discomforts from past experiences. Yet, I can remember seeing people who appeared comfortable to be as they were. I would shake my head in disbelief. What was it about them that made them more acceptable than me?
What made them more valuable or wanted?
I can recall meeting with people who appeared unqualified or weak; yet, I was resentful of them. I hated them because often the feeble or the weak was an exposure to the way I saw myself.
I would resent them because, for some reason, they would be accepted as they were yet I would have to pretend to be someone else – just so I could fit in.
I offer these concepts to narrate the confusing motto and disturbing notions which can distinguish us as valid or simply unworthy. It’s this type of thinking that kept me on guard.
It was this way of living that kept my defense mode on high alert and at code red. It was this type of thought system which I found exhausting. This is where the anxiety came in. This is what woke me up at night and then I’d jump out of bed with the belief that I’d have to run away.
This is what kept me running, always worrying and always afraid that someone else would outshine me or ruin my credibility – and leave me lonely.
I do not say that everyone feels this way. I am not here to say that this is all about me because this is not. No, this is more than “being about me.”
This is for a person-centered means of recovery. This is about finding recovery from the streams of habitual thoughts which tie us to old programs and keep us in subconscious loops.
This is about removing the internal narcissist to improve the health of our interpersonal life. This is about opening ourselves up to the vulnerability of touch. What’s more, this is about removing the mask. This is about removing the wall or barrier that has kept us from experiencing the art of joy.
I have often come to the greatest moments of awareness after some of my biggest downfalls. It was here, down and out, or down on the floor or down in the worst of places – even so far down as hearing the steel door to a cage as it rolls shut and it was at my worst moments – it was here at my bottoms or at times of great pain and great despair; it was here I came to the realization that I was the square root to this equation. It was here that I understood there was something inaccurate about my thinking which is what led to places like this.
Perhaps I lacked faith or perhaps my fears of being alone were too great. Maybe it was my worries that I would not be valid enough. Maybe these are the thoughts that crippled me.
Maybe I was afraid of rejection or that no matter what, I’d have to hide my truths. I’d have to hide my inefficiencies. I’d have to hide my inadequacies and keep my worries in the closet.
Otherwise, someone might come along and reveal my weaknesses. Someone might expose me and then I’d be naked again, like the time an entire class laughed at me in second grade (because I wet my pants). And then I’d be naked to the world; then I’d be seen for who I was: an impostor.
I see this part of my personality as a child. I see this person as the young or almost infantile version of me, tugging on my pants, worried about not being acknowledged or invited and included.
I see my inner child and I can recall this young person for exactly who they were – too afraid not to be picked first. Or worse, too afraid to be picked last or not even picked at all.
I see this person in me. I can hear when they speak to me. I can feel their worries and their insecurities. I can feel them in moments of social intimidation.
I can see this little person in me, acting out, because they want to “feel’ good.
They want to be noticed. Yet, like any child, we confuse our volume as a means to appreciate attention. Then again, when you’re afraid of not being recognized, any attention is good attention.
Sometimes, I have to play the adult.
Otherwise, I find myself acting in ways that are selfish or self-centered. I have to use my adult mind over the emotional brain. Otherwise, the internal narcissist wins and my words or behavior betray my better self.
Sometimes, I have to say, “I get it.”
I have to speak to this child, which is me. I have to say, I know why you’re afraid and I know what you’re worried about.
I tell this little person that it’s okay.
We’ll just have to work this out together.
I’ll say, “I know you want attention.”
“And I know what you’re thinking. . . .
You’re thinking that there’s something wrong; that the problem is us. But it’s not us.”
Maybe it’s “them.”
Ever think of that?
Or, are you too busy trying to find accountability for why you feel alone?
I have to speak to this person in me.
I have to explain that we need to update our thinking. This way we can let our guard down – and this way, regardless of what comes – at least we can rest for a while.
Although challenges and opinions will vary, the truth is we all have a fight within ourselves. This is our biggest downfall. This is what prevents us from reaching our best potential; but more, this is what separates us from our best relationships.
We’ll call this a theft of service. We’ll call this a distraction from being capable of living in the moment. We’ll call this the ongoing thoughts that blind us to our actions, in which we take more than we give. We take and we take all that we can because we have this insatiable need to be fed and satisfied. Maybe the pendulum will swing the other way. We give and we give because otherwise, what else do we have that’s endearing about us?
It’s all just a trade that complicates the mind.
Although medications are helpful, in order to start our changes and improve our systems, we have to address the pathology. We have to address our personal science otherwise we lose ourselves on a path to nowhere.
From a personal perspective, I have moments of regressions. I have times where I fall back into old predicaments as a result of old thinking. There are mornings like now. The sun is up. I have work to do. I have this journal to finish and I have a life to change, one day at a time. For now, I am good.
I suppose what I’ve been looking for is a way to pull off my trick. I’ve found lots of things along the way. I found this place here which I call my writer’s loft. I come here every day just to speak with you.
Just for a moment before I start my day.
I come here to find myself and to boost my sanity because otherwise, the world is a crazy place. I suppose it pays to find people like us – to stick together whenever possible and if need be, we can hold hands when we cross the street.
Just to be safe . . .