Worries About Writing

I like to classify things in an attempt to make sense of them and I like to label myself so I know who I am. It's an overly simplified way of thinking and I don't always stick to it, but it's how I like to start working through things.

You know on your first day of school, when the teacher asks all the students to tell the class something about themselves? Well, mine was always "I'm a writer" or "I'm an author" or something to that effect. Having written two books was a big source of pride for me, especially since I was (and still am) not all that confident in myself.

I stopped writing novels over two years ago. I didn't have a clear choice of what to write next and then I wound up sick. I haven't written any fiction after I graduated, since I usually wrote when a class bored me.

Not having a clear idea of what to write, frustrates me. Not having written in such a long time, frustrates me. But it scares me to think that I may never write again, that I suddenly don't need it. I can't remember what it felt like to have a great idea running through my head as I scribbled it down. I just feel frustrated.

I don't know how to start a story anymore. It's almost like I've forgotten how to write. I'm scared to lose one of my self-proclaimed titles, because I just might not be an author any more. I know I'm over-thinking it, that just jumping in and struggling to piece words together on a daily basis will help me to remember, but let me steam in my worry and frustrations until I can force myself sit down in my spare time.

More Frustrated Rants

My week has been crap. Got a discipline notice at work (that I feel was undeserved) and it seemed to be the key to release all my other inner demons. All that anxiety and avoidance that I felt I had recovered from, has returned in all it's former glory. 

So, what do I do? The only logical thing that one can do when suffering self-doubt, picking up one of those self-help books. You know the ones with the cheesy title that sound empowering like "How to Become a Badass", the ones that are feel of all sorts of peppy "you can do it!" talk, and the ones that have you rolling your eyes but keep reading it just in case it turns out to be the thing that changed your life. I haven't come across one book yet that's really inspired a huge life change, most of them seem to creep me out. You just know that there's some creepy dude sitting back in his chair with money stacked on his desk, laughing at the idiots who bought his stupid book. 

Every time I read some of these books, I come to the realization that a) I hate these books and b) I want to stay miserable. I don't have any desire to practice any of their methods, I just want to wallow in my misery for a little while longer. I want to stay miserable because I don't know what to do to fix myself, and know that eventually I'll just have to accept it until the next time something sets me off. 

I'm just so frustrated with my life. I don't want to have an asshole boss who likes to bully me around because I look young and am anxious to start conflict, I don't want money to be the biggest factor in my life, even though it is. I don't want to have to stay at a job just so I can pay for my car, I want to be able to find a job that I enjoy (something I could do on my own from home would be extra nice) instead of waiting around for the magical transformation of my boss. 

The problem is I can't find a way around it. Maybe twenty years from now I'll be in a position to work around it, maybe by then I'll have enough money to make my life enjoyable. But I'm not sure if I'm willing to wait twenty years. Do I want to spend the next few years being miserable in hopes that it'll get better?

Not Yet Forgiving

One of my biggest challenges is learning to love myself. It's an one going cycle filled with some ups and many downs. There's the insecure feeling I get when people think I'm a junior high student and my annoyance at the fact that I probably see myself about as responsible and capable in the real world as one. There's the struggle with anxiety and fear of embarrassing myself in public at any moment. The worry that I'll say the wrong thing, the fear of expressing my opinions only to have someone unleash a torrent of "how stupid are you" on me.

I've mentioned before that I have a nasty habit of physically punishing myself (in very, very mild ways) by slapping myself in the head or pinching myself every time I think I've done something wrong. For example, I jokingly told a work friend that my dad wanted me to be Buddhist because he kept trying to get me to read some books on it. Immediately I thought I'd said it to loud and/or offended the East Indians that were in the lunch room. That was four days ago, I slapped myself in the car today when I thought about it.

You'll know when I get a bad memory because I like to hiss under my breath "shit" and then will probably slap myself on the cheek while whispering "stupid". Then I'll let it steam in my own mind as I become afraid that someone has seen it and thought that I was a complete idiot.

I'm not too good at letting embarrassing moment go with an "Oh, well. Can't change the past!". I try. I usual attempt to convince myself to let it go because I can't possible do anything to change it. Sometimes it helps a little, but I usually feel really anxious for a few hours afterwards and any other time I think about it.

I don't have a lot of compassion for myself. In anyone else was doing this to me, it would be emotional abuse. The problem is I have a hard time seeing that I'm a person too. I have to learn how to 'play nice'. Simple as that.

I've also decided to end this on a weird, random and semi-happy note. I freaking love tall prairie grass. It's so beautiful, especially when you get a nice breeze and they all sway, looking like an ocean of grass. Something else I also have a weird affection for, hard wood floors. Especially the maple colour with scuff marks and scratches. They will literally make a room for me. I stayed at a hotel in Italy with floors like that and it was by far the best hotel room I've ever stayed in.

Your welcome for all that fun information. Enjoy your day. :P

Theoretically, this should work...

Today, I attempted to sew. About five years ago I took a Home Ec course where they showed us how to use a sewing machine and how to hand-stitch. Luckily for me, I had a friend in that class that knew how to sew and would often, with a sigh of exasperation as she looked at my clumsy attempts, finish my projects for me. I, unfortunately, did not have that friend by my side as I tried today.

First I had to learn how to thread a bobbin, then how to insert the bobbin, then how to thread the upper thread, and then how to sew in a straight line. After about five minutes, my face was flushed with frustration  and I could feel tears threatening to spill. Still, I pressed on for another two hours. My project is uncompleted and I have to rip out about half of my seams. 

Right now, I'm immensely frustrated. For one main reason: I expected it to come out perfectly. After all, I read the manual, watched the videos and I theoretically knew exactly how to make it perfect. I now know that practical and theoretical knowledge are far from the same thing. But how was I supposed to know? For years in school, all I had to do was pick up a book and let the information sink in. I could easily learn about some point in history or mitosis or political views by reading a book. 

None of the courses I took in school prepared me for my greatest challenge of all... threading that goddamned bobbin. I spent my entire educational life thus far learning theoretically, something that I also think I have a natural knack for. I never really learned how to practically learn skills, something that rings true every time I attempt to do my hair, cook, sew or anything that requires a hands-on approach. 

Practice is what's needed to learn those types of skills. Hands-on practice is not something I'm very good at simply because I expect that since I know the steps I will be able to accomplish it easily. I still haven't learned to french braid although I theoretically know the steps, simply because when I try it doesn't end up perfect and I give up. Story of my life! I'll try to cook something, but if it fails I'll just stop cooking. I'm not an adventurous cook, I can't just throw something in, I need to follow the directions exactly because if I don't it'll come out wrong. I envy my brother for effortlessly throwing random spices in simply because he can. 

It's very frustrating for me. Extremely. And logically I know that all I need is practice, but I"m unwilling to do so because I'm not as good as it as I think I should be. I wish that I knew how to hands on learn, but it's just something I've never had experience before. If you sit down in a classroom, you'll be taught from a textbook or by listening to a lecture. It's rare that, unless you take something like shop or Home Ec, you'll learn hands on. 

People learn differently, but school's don't like to teach differently. I feel bad for my hands-on buddies, because if I was forced to learn just hands-on I have no doubt that I would have had a very poor schooling experience. How they managed to survive in a theoretical world, I do not know. All I know is that I wish I'd had more opportunities to learn hands-on approaches. 

Either way, now I'm stuck wallowing in self-pity because the all the new skills I want to learn require a hands-on approach. I want to learn how to build a cob house, sew, garden, build fences, cook, how to do electrical and plumbing work, and to become relatively self-sufficient. The only way I'll learn these is if I jump feet first and give myself some slack. It's ok not to get it right on the first, second, third, forth... hundredth time. I need practice, and I need to understand that I will make a lot of mistakes as I learn. A lot! I just hope that my head can get into gear, stop beating me up and begin to treat me like the imperfect human being that I am. 

Vacation Confessions

I'm writing this simply because I've been thinking about this for awhile, and because I'm too much of a chicken to talk face-to-face with someone about. Let's get this clear from the get-go, I am very blessed and I'm not trying to be ungrateful. So please don't take this the wrong way.

A few months ago my parents made me an offer; if I got a job, they would help pay for a trip to Italy. Now, I've got a job and a brand spanking new car that I'm very proud to say I got all on my own. My parents payed for the license plate and co-signed, and I think that's about it. I offers a bunch of freedom...and a ton of more problems and concerns.

When I was younger, I dreamed of going to Italy. I loved to study various subjects and had read up as much as I could on ancient Rome. My parents ended up going to Italy, leaving me behind to cry into a pillow out of frustration and jealousy. I mean, I was happy for them, but mad because I felt like I knew far more about the history than they did and, having the superiority complex that I did, didn't think they deserved to go when I couldn't.

I eventually got over to some degree. Now that I finally have a chance to go, I don't feel that excitement about it and the thrill of knowing all history is gone. Not to mention, I'm going with my parents who've been there before and seen all sights already. They won't be nearly as amazed as I will be, and probably won't enjoy seeing the same things over and over again. It's seems a bit more disappointing than anything.

Then I have money to think about. How long do I plan on staying at this job? How much do I save for school? How much money will the trip cost me? Is it worth the cost? What could I do with the money instead? Will I be too impulsive with my money while on vacation?

Ever since getting the job, money's all that I worry about. I don't know anything about it. I have no concept of what amount of spending I'm allowed to be doing, or how much I should be saving. I worry that getting a car was a bad idea, even though I did need it to get to work. Every time I use my debit card, I worry a bit more. Whether it be for lunch, a tank of gas or a pair of shoes. It doesn't matter the cost, just the fact that I'm spending money. I am unbelievably worried about doing the wrong thing with my money that will end up ruining my future.

What's even worse, is the fact that now I feel very guilty because I'm not more appreciative of the great opportunity I've been given. I'm sure once I'm in Italy, I'll have a lot of fun, but there's still that nagging feeling that if I don't enjoy it as much as I should, then it's been a waste of money. Hopefully the stress will go away after awhile and I'll start to look forward to the trip. I just wish I knew what I should be doing.

Is it Forever?

I think I, or at least used to, view my social anxiety as something that will never change, but lately I wonder if that's the wrong approach. I've stopped trying to overcome it in a way, although I do give myself a mental pat on the back when I manage do something I'm nervous of or when I have to push myself a little.

That may sort of work, but I've started to realize that I become anxious even at home. For example, I haven't ever really used a blender and I got one for Christmas, but I'm afraid of using it when someone's home because I'm afraid of embarrassing myself in front of them. I also don't like baking, or exercising in front of others. They're my family for crying out loud!

And I thought I was getting better. Maybe that's just because I had a major stresser (school) taken out of my daily life. Either way, I'll keep this short by saying that I have no idea what I want to do. I've started considering medication, but I'm not sure that it's a route I'd like to go. My problem with medication is the fact that it's a short term fix. I won't have learned how to manage anxiety on my own and I don't want to be on meds for longer than I have to. 

Therapy's an option, but I didn't really feel like it helped all that much before. Group therapy will not happen, I can say that right now because my anxiety would make me back out before I could walk through the doors. Connecting one on one with someone is something I'm more comfortable with. 

I guess this means that I'll be spending a few more days/weeks/months researching ways to overcome anxiety and thinking about it. Sigh...

Questions I Have Yet to Answer

I'm going to attempt to do a semi-positive post today. Gasp! I know, it's beyond shocking. Me, positive? The world is truly ending this month. My aunt asked me a question yesterday that I still haven't found the answer to. Or have, but it's not a very solid answer. So, I thought why not sure some of the questions that have been posed to me. The majority of these, I don't have an answer to. So, bear with me. ;)

My aunt had asked me, "What makes you feel loved?". It sounded simple, but it's always those simple ones that throw me for a loop. I've been feeling very emotionally levelled, meaning lately I've been very emotionless and have a bleak outlook at times. So, my first thought was "Have I ever truly felt loved?". I'm still in emotionless mode, and love is an emotion so I haven't been able to pinpoint a lot of exact moments, but reason tells me that I have felt loved. (I'd also like to acknowledge at this point, that my parents and family members are extremely loving and I've had an excellent life. So, no fault on their part!)

After thinking about it so hard that my brain nearly burst, the best I could come up with is the random, spontaneous things that you don't see coming make me feel loved. Even just the tiniest things, like someone paying for my coffee (tea or chai latte in my case) make me feel loved, and the person didn't even try! My mom once woke me up one morning when I was still pretty sick and handed me a chai latte. That blew me away, and still does! When I was little, I had a lot of nightmares, so my dad told me to make up stories in my head to help me get to sleep. That's probably the single piece of advice I love the most. I still do it, and use it as a coping mechanism when I'm stressed.

I like things that aren't done because it's customary, something spontaneous and has meaning to me. The person may not know they've made me feel loved, but when they do it without feeling like they have to, it means a lot to me.

Another couple of questions, I've come across is in regards to my anxiety is "who made you feel worthless" or "what I am protecting myself form". I'd have to say that I have a tendency to make myself feel worthless. I'm extremely harsh and judgemental of myself, I know this and believe me I'm trying to work on it. Someone may trigger something, by making fun of my makeup or outfit, and I take to whole new level. I will spent hours criticizing every little detail of that conversation and mentally hitting myself for looking like an idiot or embarrassing myself. It wasn't my problem, someone else was being an idiot. I'm still trying to remember that whenever I feel judged or criticized. If I like the way I look, no one else's opinion should matter.

I also don't know how to answer that second question. I don't know what I'm protecting myself from. Embarrassment, public humiliation? Those are my only two guesses. I have a hard time stepping out of my comfort zone (most people do) and I have a hard time making myself vulnerable. I only like being the centre of attention if it's for something I feel control in. For example, presenting or teaching a subject to a class. I love it. I like sharing the information I've gathered, it makes me feel very happy and confident. At a party, I'd rather slink away into the background or be glued to a friend's side.

I've probably mentioned this before, but a previous therapist of mine asked me "Is a person ever worthless?" It arose when I told her, I felt worthless because I didn't have a job and was having trouble with school. I was also afraid I'd spend the rest of my life living with my parents and never doing anything of value. I thought about it for a week straight, and finally came up with no. As long as I am able to think, I'm not worthless. Most of my work is done mentally; I like to think, write and read. You're not going to see physical results for those most of the time.

I'm not saying that I don't ever want to have a job, as I wrote in my last post, I'd really like the freedom it offers. My problem is getting myself there. In happy news, I did manage to hand in a resume the other day. My aunt and I were at DQ and she spontaneously asked me if I could ask for an application form. Spontaneous and something I like to avoid usually ends up with me staring into space like a deer in headlights. And yes, at first I was just like that. I did manage to make up the courage to go to the counter, got an application form, and filled it out, handing it in before I left. It wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I actually felt really confident.

My aunt has been great in helping me over come some of my fears about handing in resumes. I admitted that I often lied about handing in resumes, just because I didn't want to disappoint someone or look stupid. She suggested a code phrase that I could say every time I felt like lying about it, so that she would know that it's the time to be a bit more gentle with me.

It blew me away because I had tended to look at job applications as you hand it in, you succeed or you don't hand it in, you're a failure. There was never this grey area of, I tried. I never stopped to think about why I was unable to hand in a resume or what happened to prevent me from accomplishing my goal. All I know about past attempts was, tried and failed. Not why I failed. Or what I could do differently to allow me to succeed.

Either way, I'm feeling more optimistic today. Even if I have to hand in two resumes tomorrow. It shall be done!