In case it isn’t clear, I’m the one bent over carrying the load. Always the one carrying the load.
The artist forgot to draw in my glasses. Either that or they fell off my face, and bending lower to pick them up would make me drop something.
Heaven forbid I drop that I’m not good enough. Or that I must not make a mistake.
On the plus side:
- I’ve always faced and conquered my fears. Yay!
- I meet challenges, and strive to conquer them as much as my fears. Yay!
- Friends and co-workers have learned to rely on me as their go-to person for making shit happen. Yay!
- I’m always so helpful. If I don’t know the answer, I’ll find it for you! Yay!
- There’s not much I can’t do, once I shut my inner “can’t do it” voice. Yay!
- My life has been exciting, of the story-telling kind of hard to believe stuff. Yay-yay!
On the down side:
- I’ve worn myself out to the point where I now have a pneumonia. Boo!
- I honestly struggle to believe myself worthy of anything good. Boo!
- I do all this to try and prove to myself that I have self-worth. Boo!
- And I still haven’t managed to impress the bitch in charge. Boo!
- The bitch in charge (meaning I) still whispers “you’re nothing.” Boo!
- The bitch in charge (meaning I) may never think more of me than she does the welcome mat. Boo-spit-boo!
I would never treat my worst enemy the way I treat myself. First off, I don’t have a worst enemy, nor do I have a best enemy. How dare I hate someone! Who am I (the not good enough, the not worthy, the blah blah blah) to hate when that would require looking down on someone. The only person I look down upon is… me.
The bitch in charge is hereby fired.
See what happens when I let my head take charge? But what happens when I allow my heart and my instinct to lead the way? Magic. That’s what.
Magic happens. And happiness follows. It always does. They go together like peanut butter and Nutella, or like ha and ha, or like coffee and cream, or like Stephen King and screams…
This pneumonia is the last fucking straw. How many more messages do I need from the Universe before I finally get it?
Where the hell does all this come from?
I’ve had this little gem of a book by Louise Hay “Heal Your Body A-Z” – book no longer available, but now offered as an app. How cool. Anyways, see how I need to be helpful? This book, or app, is all about the mental causes behind physical illnesses. She’s quite spot on.
Talk about serious scary shit. Yeah. All the S words combined. I was taken aback. Depression? Really? But what about all this hap-hap-happy crap I’ve been spewing all over the place? And what about my ever so smiling face? And my take-a-bite-outta-life attitude? Am I just a big fat phoney-baloney?
No. Of course not. I am happy. But do I feel worthy of all that’s good in life?
Note to parents around the world: if you witness your child developing any kind of self-deprecating attitude, stop that shit right now! If you witness your child showing signs of poor self-esteem, nip that shit in the bud right fucking now! Not that I blame my parents for my shabby sense of self…
p.s. Sorry Mom, I am not targeting you, you did a wonderful job – look at how I turned out after all! I’m fucking amazing! I need to start believing it. Really believing it. And acting accordingly. Now please excuse me while I go take a bath and use up my most luxurious and expensive bar of soap that I’ve been saving for a good reason. The reason is me.