8mar2010

So I just got off of the skype with Adam. It was a really hard call. He's just started to work out again, so he's super motivated and wants me to be too. Well, I'm not. In fact, I feel exactly the opposite. In the first week after he left, I drank every day. By myself after Taylor went to bed, while watching Criminal Minds or other assorted crap on tv, I drank. Sometimes one, mostly two or three strong drinks. I made myself stop; not because I didn't want to drink anymore; but because I knew I should or it could go somewhere really bad. I felt it getting past the point of acceptability. I wanted to drink during the day. It was really all I wanted to do. I knew that wasn't ok. Anyway, I knew I was drinking because I was depressed about him leaving; but that's just an excuse, isn't it? I can deal with it another way. Like, by actually dealing with it.
So this past weekend, Taylor was sick. Needless to say, we didn't do much. We barely left the house. And I barely left the couch. I mustered up enough motivation to vacuum upstairs, do laundy and make an attempt at keeping the dishes at bay. Otherwise, I didn't clean the rest of the house like I'd wanted to. On Friday, during her three and a half hour nap, I layed on the couch and watched three and a half hours of tv. I literally had no motivation or desire or energy, what felt like, ability to raise myself from the couch and accomplish something.
Now, to a normal person, capable of moving on from small setbacks like this; no big deal. But, to obsessive me - big deal. I feel like for as long as I can remember, I've been really hard on myself. I've never been satisfied with what I've done, how much I've accomplished, or ever been able to forgive myself for even the smallest trespass against my goals. For example, if I am supposed to wash my face, floss, and brush my teeth at night and I don't do it; I feel such a sense of self-defeat that I don't do it for days afterwards. It makes no sense; but I feel like such a failure, why should I bother? This happens often, and in so many small ways and situations. I think that this is why I've settled for mediocrity in so many areas of my life. I am afraid to fail. I am so afraid to fail that I have failed already. I have failed myself. I have convinced myself that I will fail, and so why even bother? And if I stumble, and something even remotely close to a failure is visible from even the farthest distance, I fail. So I quit. If I can't do it perfectly, every time, I fail. So I don't do it. Then, by not doing it, I fail. This is the vicious cycle that I live in daily. Every single day, the greatest challenges for me are maintaining routine and performing mundane tasks. The hardest part of my life is (feel free to laugh contemptuously) brushing my teeth. But, for me, doing all of these things is next to impossible.
All of this is nothing I haven't known. But it is something I've never admitted to anyone. Ever. Adam was trying to help me. He was "coaching" like men do "Oh, you can do it! Just set goals, and so on and so forth." (with regards to exercise). I told him I knew myself and that I couldn't. just. do. it. Eventually, all of this came flooding out. Who am I that I should lie anymore? Why shouldn't I face the truth of it. But, facing the truth and actually being able (as in, having the psychological tools and then being motivated enough to use them) to do something about the ugly truth are two different things. And now that he knows, I will be forced to fix it. Perhaps, a good thing. But, even as I write this, I fear that these are things I really can't fix on my own. I am not really sure what to do. I've been defeating myself my entire life. How do I stop now, and learn to think completely differently after thirty years? I'm not really sure what to do, but I know I have to stop. I want things. I want to be things. I want to do things. And not beat myself up so much if I don't do them, so that I can do other things.
Even as I reread this blog, I am feeling skiddish. I don't want to face how deep I really feel about some things about myself. But, even my crazy brain knows that if I don't, it won't ever get better.