(Just for the record - there is no particular reason why I feel compelled to be totally financially independent. It's just one of my "things".)
I am now realising that I just can't do what other people do as a matter of course. Not for very long, anyway. I can work, of course I can - work is VERY important to me. Purpose is vital. But I can't work loooong hours and spend hours sat in traffic jams (sometimes it's just not possible to ride my bike) only to snatch a few hours in bed, then be back at it. Well I can do that, for a bit. But not for very long. It hurts my brain in a way that takes me a very, very long time to recover.
I blame Jackie magazine. I think I've blamed Jackie for things before. And I'm sure I will again.
As a young pre-teen, my grandmother worked in a news agents. This was back in the old days when papers and magazines were thrown out instead of returned. I had a ready supply of Jackie magazine old unsold issues being collected for me and I just loved them. All these grown up looking girls, doing their thing. I couldn't wait to be one of them. Of course I learned an awful lot from them which was terrific and lead me into teenage times prepared, but since then, I have never been able to get the headline "what does your bedroom say about you?" out of my head. I am constantly measuring myself by the standard of "what would someone insignificant think". I'm a very lazy perfectionist and I'm not good enough at it to be totally anally retentive about how my bedroom/outside toilet/boot of my car appears, but I'm motivated enough to mentally beat the crap out of myself for it not portraying me in the best light possible.
The other thing I unhelpfully learned from mid 80's Jackie mag is that us ladies can, and I quote, "have it all". Damned 1980's. They did so much damage.
I was obsessed with 80's female body builder Corey Everson for a long time, thinking it was my duty to be a body builder, because I could. In fact, I should be everything; because I can. Sadly lacking, however was much in the way of instruction or direction as to making any kind of decision or path for myself, so I wandered along aimlessly and as a consequence, achieved very little other than extensive life experience. I was waiting for my path to naturally open up in front of me. It didn't. Never has.
There's still an awful lot of residual pressure from the "have it all" movement. In fact, there might be even more now. We all need to be runners now too. Mercilessly pounding pavements in the dark cluching a bottle with a hole through the middle and proclaiming that we "wouldn't be able to survive without running" at 5am. Before the kids get up. Before you get them to childcare. Before you go to your super rewarding job. Before you come home and hand cook an organic healthy delicious meal. Before you go out on "date night" with your handsome and supportive husband. Before you go to bed and have a decent amount of sex. Before you read a couple of chapters of the latest high brow novel while simultaneously checking the email your postgrad degree tutor has sent you about how brilliantly you're doing in your course. Before you confirm the time to meet your 17 gorgeous best friends who love you and each other equally to go to the spa pre "girls night" on Saturday.
We have to be all of these things in order to be worthy. Well guess what?
I BLOODY CAN'T ALRIGHT.
I can't cope. I get very tired very easily, my batteries run flat quickly. I can super charge them for a bit, but that cannot last long and if I'm not very careful it does me long term damage.
I WANT to do everything, but I can't. I have to rationalise this with myself who forgets this often. I sometimes get so swept up in "doing" that I have no concept of whether or not I might be doing lasting damage. I am so capable of doing so many things, and I want to do all of them. And right now. But I flaming can't. And I hate it.
Today is one of those days where I don't feel like I'm ever going to feel like myself again. Or that I'll ever be "happy" again, or not empty, one dimensional and lost. I don't feel like I'll ever find my path again (did I ever really find it in the first place) or achieve anything worthwhile ever again. I don't feel like I'll ever contribute to society ever again. (Of course my human brain knows this to be nonsense, but my Chimp is running amok and sometimes I can't get him to calm his shit down). I simply can't realistically see any of those things happening.
I can honestly see why so many with borderline have reckless habits. If I was in that kind of crowd or environment, today I would be a drug user to hide from my own mind. Or an alcoholic. Or I'd blow a shit tonne of money on crap. Luckily I have never really been in any of those places physically, but if I was, I would. If I was a Victorian prostitute I'd be off my face on Laudenam.
Fedup.com
