Well, I did something kinda stupid. I'm not exactly proud of my moment of stupidity - in fact - it's been a pretty mortifying little episode that I'm trying desperately to put behind me. But it just won't go away. Doesn't matter what I do - or how I think about it - it's still there. Looking at me. Laughing. Triumphant in its complete and total control over my emotions.
I hate it.
It owns and dominates me and I can't - for the life of me - figure out why I'm giving it so much power. It was a moment. Technically - a moment in the past. It can't hurt me anymore. I'm powerless to change it. No matter how hard I try to pretend it didn't happen - and believe me I am trying - it still did.
So I'm afraid, and powerless, and feeling like a big ole loser in the proverbial game.
Sigh.
I guess I could wallow around it in a bit longer. Keep rehashing all the "what if's" that are revolving through my head. Figure out a way to turn back time and erase the last 72 hours. Wish and wish and wish some more that it would all just go away. Seems pretty pointless.
So - instead I'm going to own it. This blog is public - which means anyone who stumbles upon it can read it and I'm all cool with that. Though it was a bit terrifying at first, I created this blog so another human could actually read my words. Novel concept to a closet writer like myself.
On the flip side - I have a very private, very personal journal that I started when I hit a rough patch at my job about 6 months ago. It is not my first journal (that dubious honor goes to a purple diary that I started in 1985 at the ripe old age of 13) but it is still my journal - full of very human thoughts and feelings about my job, my employer and in general my competence and value as a human being. And due to some technical glitches it was read - I was told - and the shame spiral began.
I wrote kinda awful things in there, ya know? The kinda stuff you write cause there is no one in the world that really wants to hear you say those things - at least not for the 50th time - but somehow they still need to be said. Things that you can barely admit to yourself - much less another human being - but need to be put to paper so they escape your head. Words that I was certain would cause me to die of embarrassment if they were ever read by another. Well - the good news is I was wrong about the death part. The embarrassment - well, that was right on the money.
I've always "journaled", and it's my go to when things get bad. So they're real bad now - at least on a personal level - and here I am again, writing away my woes. I know this will pass and someday the whole episode will be nothing but a distant, uncomfortable memory. Writing it down is step one on that journey - and having you all read it is the next step - and hopefully forgiving myself will soon follow.
Thanks for "listening."
Positively,
Kim
I hate it.
It owns and dominates me and I can't - for the life of me - figure out why I'm giving it so much power. It was a moment. Technically - a moment in the past. It can't hurt me anymore. I'm powerless to change it. No matter how hard I try to pretend it didn't happen - and believe me I am trying - it still did.
So I'm afraid, and powerless, and feeling like a big ole loser in the proverbial game.
Sigh.
I guess I could wallow around it in a bit longer. Keep rehashing all the "what if's" that are revolving through my head. Figure out a way to turn back time and erase the last 72 hours. Wish and wish and wish some more that it would all just go away. Seems pretty pointless.
So - instead I'm going to own it. This blog is public - which means anyone who stumbles upon it can read it and I'm all cool with that. Though it was a bit terrifying at first, I created this blog so another human could actually read my words. Novel concept to a closet writer like myself.
On the flip side - I have a very private, very personal journal that I started when I hit a rough patch at my job about 6 months ago. It is not my first journal (that dubious honor goes to a purple diary that I started in 1985 at the ripe old age of 13) but it is still my journal - full of very human thoughts and feelings about my job, my employer and in general my competence and value as a human being. And due to some technical glitches it was read - I was told - and the shame spiral began.
I wrote kinda awful things in there, ya know? The kinda stuff you write cause there is no one in the world that really wants to hear you say those things - at least not for the 50th time - but somehow they still need to be said. Things that you can barely admit to yourself - much less another human being - but need to be put to paper so they escape your head. Words that I was certain would cause me to die of embarrassment if they were ever read by another. Well - the good news is I was wrong about the death part. The embarrassment - well, that was right on the money.
I've always "journaled", and it's my go to when things get bad. So they're real bad now - at least on a personal level - and here I am again, writing away my woes. I know this will pass and someday the whole episode will be nothing but a distant, uncomfortable memory. Writing it down is step one on that journey - and having you all read it is the next step - and hopefully forgiving myself will soon follow.
Thanks for "listening."
Positively,
Kim
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