The Answer is 42
Posted by Moose on November 20th, 2009. Filed under: My brain needs a drink.Living alone and working from home means my hallway has become the crockpot of my personality. When I’m getting things done and being tiresomely enthusiastic, it feels energized and like the Little Apartment That Could. When I can’t type a sentence to save my life and finally retreat into knitting and steeping guilt, a haze descends. Or maybe that’s just my oven. It’s taken to smoking lately whenever I turn it on. At any rate, if my apartment takes on the atmosphere of the inside of my head, one could argue that I’m entirely too moody. Or that I need to spend more time with actual, breathing people and no, Twitter doesn’t count.
On Wednesday, a day I actually put on shoes and went out to socialize, I was talking with some friends who are all in the midst of swell new projects and yes, I just used the word swell. I don’t know, IT SEEMED APPROPRIATE. Because these are swell friends with swell ideas and I apparently need to find myself some cat eye glasses and a sweater set. ANYWAY. As I walked home after a couple of truly delicious beers (when did beer get so good? what is it with San Francisco food and its unerring devotion to being tasty enough to actually justify the price tag?), I thought about why I’m so much more interested in talking about what other people are doing than what I’m doing. There are a bunch of garden variety reasons: would rather hear what they’re doing because I KNOW what I’m doing, it’s intriguing stuff, it’s a lot easier to proffer ideas and support when someone else’s butt is on the line, etc.
But the thorniest reason, the one at the root of a very large subset of my neuroses and issues, is that looming sense of “Who am I to think I could do that?”
CUE PULLING OF HAIR TUFTS FROM SCALP. Because I know how stupid that sounds, and I have 67 intellectual arguments that quench it. But it’s obviously not a problem of the intellect, it’s an emotional thing. Which is harder to beat. Especially when it’s entrenched in years and years of insidious little thoughts. SHUT YOUR COLLECTIVE PIE HOLE, INSIDIOUS LITTLE THOUGHTS. It’s the ultimate mindfuck, really. You can’t succeed until you think you deserve to succeed but you won’t think you deserve to succeed unless you actually do succeed. (Wait, what?)
How do you go about yanking something like this out at the roots? I really have no idea. But I do know that I’m so sick of letting it stop me. Of wallowing because I can’t see a way out. So I’m going to go back to work and assume the answer will come to me at some point. It usually does.
And maybe I’ll clean out my oven.
[Edit: I always feel so much lighter after I post something like this. Sometimes I hesitate to press publish because I wonder if I'm being real or I'm just whining. (Really whining?) But when I get this nonsense off my chest, I find it so much easier to be happy. And happiness trumps truculence every time. I think the message here is that you do what you have to do to get to the happy.]
November 20th, 2009 at 9:46 am
I’m sorry to hear you feel this way. It seems you really hit the nail on the head, which is normally rude to do to anything but nails, when you said you can’t succeed until you think you deserve to. I’m ignoring the second part to that line because that’s the trick. Ignore it. I will now fall back on a saying even though I don’t know where it came from but it applies: fake it until you make it. Just do your best to ignore those voices telling you you don’t deserve to succeed and just build upwards from the silence. Then eventually, when you do succeed, because you will, you can smash those same stupid voices under the weight of your accomplishments. Smash them good!
November 20th, 2009 at 9:55 am
A big part of this is also just doing what I know I should do. Self-discipline is the key for me (it’s not part of my natural habitat ::cough::) – but I also need to avoid making myself feel horrendously guilty when I have a day where nothing gets done. It’s complex, yo. More accurately, I LIKE TO MAKE IT COMPLEX. SO I CAN FEEL ALL DEEP AND TORTURED. (Heh.)
I do mostly know the cure here: 1. Do what I know I should do, 2. Do what’s truly fun for me, 3. Ignore the outcome. 4. Also, find some people to work with because I am slightly concerned that I’m going stir-crazy sitting by myself all day.
November 20th, 2009 at 10:10 am
Oh, we are cut from the SAME CLOTH (originally, I typed “we are cute”, also true, but not what I am going for here) with the asking, “Why should I get _________” and lacking the self-discipline to do so and I also like to follow it up with a healthy dose of telling myself I’m not good enough. I think your list above is a good start—particularly “ignore the outcome.” I get so focused on the future that I ignore the process. Also, sure, my brain can counteract things if I stop and you know, USE LOGIC, but why do that when I could cry and get all mopey and down on myself? It really is a matter of heart vs. brain.
And, for the record, I think you’re awesome…you can totally do whatever it is you set your mind to.
November 20th, 2009 at 10:53 am
Haha, you know, maybe feeling all deep and tortured isn’t such a bad thing. How many emo hipsters have created a musical empire out of this feeling? That’s right, the emos. Girl-pants wearing, acoustic guitar strumming, crying to all their friends emo kids. But, since you seem so much awesomeer (yup, it’s a word!) then that, even if you like making it complex I think you’ll do fine.
What I’m trying to do with my life right now could use a healthy dose ignoring the outcome. Thanks for that!
November 20th, 2009 at 10:58 am
I always feel better after getting it out too. It’s not whining, it’s purging.
November 20th, 2009 at 11:42 am
I feel like I need to say something brilliant and poignant and meaningful…but really I was hoping you’d have it figured out and I could take notes and apply them to myself.
So, in lieu of that, um, would you like a cupcake?
xox
November 20th, 2009 at 1:32 pm
I was going to write exactly what Angella wrote. Instead, I’ll add, “You’re not whining, you’re inspiring, as well.” Hey, ya gotta clear shit where you can, whether it’s in your oven or in your emotional aura. Get happy!
November 20th, 2009 at 1:39 pm
I’m going to echo what your friend Angella said about purging and not whining.
I love how you put this stuff out there so honestly. Sometimes, it’s like reading a more eloquent version of my own thoughts. I so, so know the “Who am I to think that I could do that” self-sabotaging bit. I don’t know how someone would go about “yanking this out by the roots” (as you so put it so well), but I think that you are on the right track with just being sick of it. I often find that being fed up with something is great impetus for me to change. I’m rooting for you!
November 20th, 2009 at 3:14 pm
I’m like this too. Which is why I have a notebook full of notes for my novel, even a first sentence, but I’m too scared to START it because WHAT IF IT SUCKS?
Well, WHAT IF IT SUCKS? Then it sucks, but at least I did it!
(I’m trying to talk myself into it.)
November 20th, 2009 at 5:18 pm
Okay so you know we have a lot of the same faults. I’m crazy sensitive, I have very humble roots, and it’s easy to underestimate myself.
But here’s what I always remind myself: no one has to see this.
Just type! (I’m assuming you mean a novel here.) Just tap, tap, tap away and remind yourself that no one ever has to see it if you don’t want them too. The wonderful power of the Delete button. You’re not etching something in stone!
I think you’ll find that once it’s on the page, you will want to show people! But for now, just trick yourself into working on it and don’t think of that.
November 20th, 2009 at 9:06 pm
Yes, but what is the question?
Sinking a bit in the short-term helps reinforce your long-term buoyancy. You are swell.
November 21st, 2009 at 3:13 pm
Eeee, get out of my head!
I always feel better after writing things like this as well. Or reading something that sounds like I could have written it, thereby proving I am not alone in my nonsensical beliefs about my imminent and unavoidable failure.
November 21st, 2009 at 5:22 pm
I have to say, it’s a tradeoff. When I work from home and rarely get out and see people, my house stays fairly organized and overly clean, but my social skills tend to slack and my eye twitches.
November 22nd, 2009 at 3:28 pm
Um, have you seen my blog? THAT is whining. This is not. Actually, as weird as it sounds, I like reading posts like these because it shows that the writer is real. (Even though I’ve met you in person and know that you really are a real person! Woo!) I know it helps me to release thoughts like these through my blog and I frequently receive emails from people who feel the same.
November 23rd, 2009 at 11:07 am
I heart you for using the number 42 in this post, which is slated to be my next tattoo, just as soon as I pay off all my bills, find a good tattoo artist, convince myself that I need another tattoo, and decide where I want to place said tattoo on my body.
I struggle with that “who do I think I am?” persistent thought too, and it’s so counterproductive, especially when you have friends who think you’re the bee’s knees. I’ve found it’s better just to own your awesomeness, and one thing that helps me is repeating this phrase to myself, which my grandmother coined: “bigger dummies than you…” Bigger dummies than you have written a book/found a job they loved/made enough money to live in a human-sized apartment. Why the hell not you too???!