Respecting yourself

Even yourself

Self Judgement. Isn't that what we all think about in the wee hours of the morning on nights we can't sleep? Well, that and at least 5 dozen other rapidly shifting thoughts. It hasn't been a good week so far for sleep.

Contrary to what some may believe, I'm oh so aware of my short comings. They are plentiful. Just because I am working on this 'let it go' stage of life doesn't mean my own bullshit smells like a patch of petunias. I will never be the person I secretly long to be. Never making mistakes. Always on the ball. Manners and social grace for days. In short, perfect. Because it doesn't exist - or so I try to convince myself whenever I come across someone seemingly capable of it all.

Most (half to a solid two-thirds, maybe) days? I accept it and move on. Now. After a lot of behind the scenes inner dialogue. Unneeded agony. Internal melodrama.

Those demons and voices in your head, the ones that sound suspiciously like bitchy Aunt Irma, bigoted Grandpa Sal, a parent, a heard of catty heifers from middle school, a backstabbing confidant and so on? The ones who mock and systematically detail your every fault? It's like the wizard in Emerald City, baby. Clear the smoke and mirrors, pull aside the curtains and find a scrappy, dejected version of yourself.

Oh, to go back and shut that shit down sooner. Oh the grace I'd like to allow myself to have that I so willingly grant to others without thought. And the other others? The ones who you & I steadfastly believe have.their.shit.together? The ones you just know don't even break a sweat in the face of what keeps you up at night? They've dealt with or are still dealing with their own inner cacophony, too.

More to the point, what I wouldn't do for those I love and care about to be able to shut that shit down A. at all & B. without the lengthy & painful learning process. Just rip out all the pesky years of self loathing. And the reality is not everyone is going to learn how to love themselves. To accept themselves, warts, short tempers, catty moments, duh moments and all. But I so hope that you make the effort.

One thing about being shy and every kind of socially awkward is that it can be hard to open up to others about the things you're internally taking off points for. You sit and stew in the idea of you're a freak and nobody, nowhere else on the planet does whatever horrific thing(s) you believe makes you so unworthy. Because remember, in your mind, everybody else has all this stuff figured out from the word go. Few things bring as much relief to someone locking themselves up in their own personal judgement spiral as hearing the phrase "I do that, too!" when you're sure revealing a closely guarded weird factoid mundane personal bit of trivia is about to inspire fainting spells and gasps of horror from the mild mannered people around you.

Have you committed genocide? I seriously doubt if you're reading this that you have, so stop treating yourself as though you have.

But it can be hard to let go of that feeling. I totally get it.  And as in so many other things in life, you are not alone. There is a whole tribe of people afraid of how they'll come across so they just hide. (Or so I tell myself...)

I talk a good game in my blog posts about liking myself. About learning to accept myself and letting go of the negativity. It is a work in progress. But it is such a refreshing change of pace from the more traditional and socially accepted practice of never feeling good enough. I strive to create that inner peace. I strive to forgive myself and forgive other people. Oh, is that ever a work in progress. But it's active.

There is no manual that everyone else got, but somehow missed you. That 'perfect' person you're comparing yourself to? I'd be willing to be money they are as imperfect as you with the stomach flu horror story to prove it. Vomit and diarrhea, the great equalizers.

OR

There are people, far more qualified, far more eloquent, yada, yada, so on and so forth, who have said it better. And probably without the bodily fluids reference. Maybe not.

Like I said, better.

Respect yourself. Forgive yourself for being wonderfully imperfect. Accept yourself.

And for crying out loud, find a better hobby than writing blog posts before the butt crack of dawn when you can't sleep at night. And once you find it, let me know. No macramé. Also, fun fact, needlework makes me swear. A whole lot. So something quiet so I don't wake the house up. Like reading my library book. Or finger painting. Or making Christmas ornaments. Or figuring out world peace. Or finishing my friend's amazingly good manuscript that I shamefully have had for too long without giving helpful feedback. I'm an awful person. 

So tired.