Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Where did I go wrong?
How do I pick a time to write? When do I know I'm ready? When should I skip a day? I have the same problem with exercise. When should I do anything? It all takes an act of will. The older I get the less I have, and the less I need. I'm just playin' out the string. It's all over but the cryin'. What am I doin' here then? Why even try? I still have something left. Maybe my best years are still ahead of me. I've been building up to this all my life. As always I'm just trying to strip down to the bare essentials. I need to be focused on just one thing. I guess I've always been kidding myself. I've always told myself that I would be able to accomplish great things when the heat was on. Really I couldn't accomplish anything, and I blamed it on external events. I've been a failure in life, and I'm just coming around now to admit it. I've always been crazy. I haven't accomplished a single thing. All I've done is take money from the government and use it to keep me and my fantasies alive. That's a little rough, but it's pretty much the truth. There have been a lot of people that have devoted their lives to research and haven't discovered a single thing. They took a shot and missed. Was just the fact they were capable of doing research an accomplishment? Sometimes it was, and sometimes it wasn't. Which was I? There are a lot of spiritual people that spent their lives in prayer or meditation. Were their lives a waste? Then you have the disabled. Just the fact that they are able to get through life is viewed as an accomplishment. Maybe I don't understand the disabled as good as I should. Maybe I don't see myself as clear as I should. The plainest thing about me seems to be my need for approval. Whenever somethng interesting comes along I immediately go into an imaginary conversation with whoever I think it would mean the most to. I don't trust myself. I don't think I'm worhty. It doesn't seem to be something I can convince myself to be otherwise. It seems to be hardwired into me. I can't seem to think any other way. I've fought it all my adult life it seems. I remember running away from home when I was seventeen. All the time in my head I was telling my family what it was like. I knew I had a problem then. I've never been able to change. I've studied Dialectic Behavior Therapy. The key to it is mindfulness. These imaginary conversations are an example of me not being mindful. As a baby a person must individuate. I never did. I can only see myself in terms of others. I could play shoulda woulda coulda. I should have focused on it more. I should have done this or done that. What should I do now? Should I just try to learn to live with it the best I can? Give me a day to think about it.