I have something of a love-hate relationship with New Years.
I love the idea of new beginnings, fresh starts, yada yada... but hate the fact that every year, all of those earnest commitments are broken and discarded within days. With, of course, the resulting feelings of failure that accompany them.
I've decided that New Years Resolutions are not for me. They're just not. They don't work for me. I'm already depressed, so the inevitable feelings of failure in making resolutions that I know I'll break (and embarrassingly soon) aren't something that I need in my life right now. I just don't. Too much stress going into an already bleak time of year. Bad combination.
Instead, I think I'm going to adopt a tortoise-and-hare approach. I think I can handle that a bit less ineptly than the whole "multiple major life changes at once" thing.
I think, in 2020, I'm going to adopt a "New Day's Resolution" and do it 365 times.
Every day, improve just a little bit... in one area. Just a bit. Be a bit better than I was the day before. Improve just a smidgen. Just a tad. Slow and steady. Explore new habits... but one at a time. Integrate new practices... one at a time. Slowly. Deliberately. Carefully.
Then, I'm going to go easy on myself if I'm not perfect even at that. After all, it's just one day, right? There are 364 other ones that I can turn into successes.
And when you think about it, that's less disappointing, isn't it? Let's see... make all kinds of grand and glorious changes for the year, and fail at all of them within 10 days... or stumble on the 1 thing... the little bit... you're changing THAT DAY, knowing you can go have a bowl of ice cream to console yourself and try again in the morning.
Yeah. Definitely less stressful.
So this New Year, instead of scribbling down a poorly-thought-out list of major life changes I want to fail at in the next couple of weeks, I'm going to make un-resolutions. And I'm going to take it slow. and steady. And hopefully, at the end of this coming year, I can look back at a plethora of small, but significant, changes that I've made each day, that have come together to make my life just a little bit better overall than it was this year.
Tuesday, December 31, 2019
Confessions of a Spiritual Self-Saboteur
For some time now, I've been munging on the disturbing reality of my own self-sabotage. It isn't an easy thing to admit... that you're been unconsciously undermining your own success at almost every turn in almost every aspect of your life... and yet that's precisely what I discovered I was doing to myself.
You see, no matter what anyone says, in my mind and heart I'm a Colossal Loser. Big "L" on my forehead and everything. And if nothing changes, I always will be. Oh, I'll try to convince you otherwise... I put on a pretty good show about wanting others to "appreciate my work," or "admire my talent," or whatever it is that I think OTHERS value in who I am. But in my mind and heart, I know that they'll never value me for ME. I'll never be "enough." I'll always be a fraud... and in that, always unworthy of happiness.
So, I make choices that will pretty much guarantee that I never find it.
I can't even begin to tally the number of times that I've had a "great idea," or an "ingenius spark of creativity"... only to watch it crumble in failure because I cannot bring myself to follow through on even simple tasks that would contribute to my own success. Standing back and observing these trends in my life, it becomes actually comical in a dark, tragic sort of way.
The most devastating part of self-loathing (which is the fertile, well-manured underlying soil of self-sabotage), is that a) you realize that the thing that killed your chances of success in your life was... you. And b) that your self-sabotage is part of an even greater cycle that is almost impossible to break out of. The more you sabotage yourself, the more you fail and the more unhappy you become. The more unhappy you become, the less you feel you are worthy of happiness, and the more validity is heaped onto the refuse pile of self-loathing. And on and on and on and on.
You see, once we determine that we are not worthy of success or happiness, we often make unconscious choices that validate that belief. "See? I told you I'm a failure. Just look at my latest 'great idea.' NOTHING works for me." It's easy to validate failure. All you have to do is fail. It's familiar territory. It's your "old stomping ground." It has all of the comfort of the proverbial "old shoe." You know it, and it knows you. It is a "known."
Of course, my inner self argues, "I WANT to be happy... I WANT to be successful... are you kidding me?" The truth is that while happiness and success are things you desperate yearn for, they are invariably something that you inwardly know you'll never achieve, because in your heart, you believe that you don't deserve it, that you aren't "good enough" to achieve it, and that you aren't "enough" to be in that class of lucky people. So, faced with your withering self-loathing, your obedient inner self snaps to attention with a hearty, "Aye, Aye, Captain!" and carries out your orders to make sure that belief is more than valid.
While it's fairly easy to see how this condition manifests itself in the secular workaday world... I'm not entirely sure if we realize the damage that it does to us spiritually, which I've discovered can be far more subtle and insidious.
Let examine the story of "Joe."
Joe suffers from chronic depression, and yet is a faithful member of his Church, and attends meetings every Sunday. He fulfills assignments, and tries to be "good," since that is what people do who are "righteous"... they are "good." They do "good things." They treat people well. They're perfectly honest. They have perfectly pure thoughts. They never do "bad" things. They don't struggle with addiction. They don't "sin." They never stray from the "straight and narrow." They strive to exemplify a higher standard in their conduct. They are filled with the joy and light that result from being innately "good."
Joe was taught from a very young age that if he wanted to be with God, he must meet certain standards and criteria and basically must be pretty damned near perfect, as "no unclean thing can enter the Kingdom of God." Joe looks around himself at Church, and all he sees are people that are "good." People that are definitely better than him. And people that deserve to be happy and successful and to live with God someday.
At church, Joe sees an entire congregation of people that, compared to him, are damned near perfect. He feels out of place and "less than." This causes Joe a tremendous amount of pain and anguish in his soul because he desperately WANTS to be "good." He loves God. He WANTS to be "righteous." And yet, at every turn, it seems like he consistently does something that drives a wedge more deeply between this deep spiritual desire and achieving that peace and self-acceptance.
Joe doesn't believe that he measures up. Not by a long shot. He's nowhere near perfect, and in fact is obsessed with past mistakes and sins that he really doesn't believe deep down inside that he has ever been really forgiven for... because he's "Joe." He knows how dark his thoughts and feelings can be sometimes. He knows that he can never be among the "righteous"... not really. He isn't "good." He's broken. He doesn't have perfectly clean thoughts. He is irritable and impatient with others. He's made some pretty bad mistakes throughout his life. He is damaged. He is depressed about how he doesn't measure up, and the more depressed this makes him the stronger his belief becomes that he will NEVER measure up. Not really.
Joe believes deep inside that if the others at church REALLY knew how badly he didn't measure up and how "bad" he was, they would throw him out and tell him to never come back. After all, "good" people don't deserve to be burdened with someone so "bad." It just drags everyone down.
As Joe plods through his Hell-hole of a life, he finds himself sometimes doing things... bad things... that do some pretty serious validation of his feelings of unworthiness.
It truly baffles Joe; he doesn't understand why he does those things... they don't bring him joy or light or happiness... he knows they're wrong... he feels deep remorse because of them. He never set out to do them. And yet it seems like some invisible force compels him to do them, almost against his very will. Joe becomes more and more frustrated, angry, and depressed. He desperately wants to be 'good.' Being 'bad' is not what he wants. But it seems that being "bad" is just what he is. Every time he tries to be "good," he winds up doing something "bad" as if to prove that he's just not worthy of being "good."
Of course, every time Joe does one of these 'bad things,' his inner dialogue screams, "See?! I TOLD you that I'm a Bad Person, and that I'm not worthy of ever being forgiven, much less 'good.' I'm not like the 'good' people. I just can't do this." Joe's self-esteem drops like a rock. Joe's self-loathing takes off like a rocket. Same song, different verse. Rinse and repeat. Worlds without end.
Joe will eventually find himself so overcome with self-hatred and hopelessness that he will at least think seriously about taking his own life. After all, he doesn't deserve to live. It's that bad. Joe believes that his soul is so stained and filthy that it will never be clean again. Everyone would be so much better off if he weren't there to drag everyone down and hurt those that he loves.
Does Joe intellectually know better? Of course. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever. Joe knows the REAL truth. He's a Colossal Loser... always has been, always will be, and hell-bent on proving it to everyone... especially to himself and God. You see, the loftier his desires and goals, the harder his subconscious works to prove that it will never happen... that he simply isn't worth it. It is a self-fulfilling prophesy.
You see, no matter what anyone says, in my mind and heart I'm a Colossal Loser. Big "L" on my forehead and everything. And if nothing changes, I always will be. Oh, I'll try to convince you otherwise... I put on a pretty good show about wanting others to "appreciate my work," or "admire my talent," or whatever it is that I think OTHERS value in who I am. But in my mind and heart, I know that they'll never value me for ME. I'll never be "enough." I'll always be a fraud... and in that, always unworthy of happiness.
So, I make choices that will pretty much guarantee that I never find it.
I can't even begin to tally the number of times that I've had a "great idea," or an "ingenius spark of creativity"... only to watch it crumble in failure because I cannot bring myself to follow through on even simple tasks that would contribute to my own success. Standing back and observing these trends in my life, it becomes actually comical in a dark, tragic sort of way.
The most devastating part of self-loathing (which is the fertile, well-manured underlying soil of self-sabotage), is that a) you realize that the thing that killed your chances of success in your life was... you. And b) that your self-sabotage is part of an even greater cycle that is almost impossible to break out of. The more you sabotage yourself, the more you fail and the more unhappy you become. The more unhappy you become, the less you feel you are worthy of happiness, and the more validity is heaped onto the refuse pile of self-loathing. And on and on and on and on.
You see, once we determine that we are not worthy of success or happiness, we often make unconscious choices that validate that belief. "See? I told you I'm a failure. Just look at my latest 'great idea.' NOTHING works for me." It's easy to validate failure. All you have to do is fail. It's familiar territory. It's your "old stomping ground." It has all of the comfort of the proverbial "old shoe." You know it, and it knows you. It is a "known."
Of course, my inner self argues, "I WANT to be happy... I WANT to be successful... are you kidding me?" The truth is that while happiness and success are things you desperate yearn for, they are invariably something that you inwardly know you'll never achieve, because in your heart, you believe that you don't deserve it, that you aren't "good enough" to achieve it, and that you aren't "enough" to be in that class of lucky people. So, faced with your withering self-loathing, your obedient inner self snaps to attention with a hearty, "Aye, Aye, Captain!" and carries out your orders to make sure that belief is more than valid.
While it's fairly easy to see how this condition manifests itself in the secular workaday world... I'm not entirely sure if we realize the damage that it does to us spiritually, which I've discovered can be far more subtle and insidious.
Let examine the story of "Joe."
Joe suffers from chronic depression, and yet is a faithful member of his Church, and attends meetings every Sunday. He fulfills assignments, and tries to be "good," since that is what people do who are "righteous"... they are "good." They do "good things." They treat people well. They're perfectly honest. They have perfectly pure thoughts. They never do "bad" things. They don't struggle with addiction. They don't "sin." They never stray from the "straight and narrow." They strive to exemplify a higher standard in their conduct. They are filled with the joy and light that result from being innately "good."
Joe was taught from a very young age that if he wanted to be with God, he must meet certain standards and criteria and basically must be pretty damned near perfect, as "no unclean thing can enter the Kingdom of God." Joe looks around himself at Church, and all he sees are people that are "good." People that are definitely better than him. And people that deserve to be happy and successful and to live with God someday.
At church, Joe sees an entire congregation of people that, compared to him, are damned near perfect. He feels out of place and "less than." This causes Joe a tremendous amount of pain and anguish in his soul because he desperately WANTS to be "good." He loves God. He WANTS to be "righteous." And yet, at every turn, it seems like he consistently does something that drives a wedge more deeply between this deep spiritual desire and achieving that peace and self-acceptance.
Joe doesn't believe that he measures up. Not by a long shot. He's nowhere near perfect, and in fact is obsessed with past mistakes and sins that he really doesn't believe deep down inside that he has ever been really forgiven for... because he's "Joe." He knows how dark his thoughts and feelings can be sometimes. He knows that he can never be among the "righteous"... not really. He isn't "good." He's broken. He doesn't have perfectly clean thoughts. He is irritable and impatient with others. He's made some pretty bad mistakes throughout his life. He is damaged. He is depressed about how he doesn't measure up, and the more depressed this makes him the stronger his belief becomes that he will NEVER measure up. Not really.
Joe believes deep inside that if the others at church REALLY knew how badly he didn't measure up and how "bad" he was, they would throw him out and tell him to never come back. After all, "good" people don't deserve to be burdened with someone so "bad." It just drags everyone down.
As Joe plods through his Hell-hole of a life, he finds himself sometimes doing things... bad things... that do some pretty serious validation of his feelings of unworthiness.
It truly baffles Joe; he doesn't understand why he does those things... they don't bring him joy or light or happiness... he knows they're wrong... he feels deep remorse because of them. He never set out to do them. And yet it seems like some invisible force compels him to do them, almost against his very will. Joe becomes more and more frustrated, angry, and depressed. He desperately wants to be 'good.' Being 'bad' is not what he wants. But it seems that being "bad" is just what he is. Every time he tries to be "good," he winds up doing something "bad" as if to prove that he's just not worthy of being "good."
Of course, every time Joe does one of these 'bad things,' his inner dialogue screams, "See?! I TOLD you that I'm a Bad Person, and that I'm not worthy of ever being forgiven, much less 'good.' I'm not like the 'good' people. I just can't do this." Joe's self-esteem drops like a rock. Joe's self-loathing takes off like a rocket. Same song, different verse. Rinse and repeat. Worlds without end.
Joe will eventually find himself so overcome with self-hatred and hopelessness that he will at least think seriously about taking his own life. After all, he doesn't deserve to live. It's that bad. Joe believes that his soul is so stained and filthy that it will never be clean again. Everyone would be so much better off if he weren't there to drag everyone down and hurt those that he loves.
Does Joe intellectually know better? Of course. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever. Joe knows the REAL truth. He's a Colossal Loser... always has been, always will be, and hell-bent on proving it to everyone... especially to himself and God. You see, the loftier his desires and goals, the harder his subconscious works to prove that it will never happen... that he simply isn't worth it. It is a self-fulfilling prophesy.
The Island of Misfit Toys
As I lay awake in bed tonight, struggling to quiet the ever-present demons, a thought occurred to me that whispered truth in my ear... and really made me think. (One of the more common pastimes for those who are severely depressed is to wonder why they are so miserable and screwed-up... and why nothing seems to help).
Tonight I gained a tiny bit of clarity, I think. It didn't help me feel better, of course, other than to gain another piece of the never-ending puzzle that is my depression.
The insight? That I just don't "fit in"... and never have.
As I put this theory to the test and went back through my life story and thought about each discrete stage, event, or segment, I came to realize that in almost every case, I felt like I didn't "fit in" somehow.
Childhood? Didn't fit in. Only child. Broken and abused almost from birth through age 11. Moved around a lot. Always the new kid at school. Always the last one chosen. Beaten up. Kids are cruel and mean. Never close to anyone. 8 schools in 12 grades.
Adolescence? Didn't fit in. Tried, and had some limited success socially, but in the end, no cigar. Did a lot of great stuff. Had great opportunities. Only bright, shining spots in my life. Most marred by serious mistakes, though.. Again, very few close friendships. Friends that I did have seemed to be much better people than I knew I was... so I didn't "fit in" with their crowd.
Adulthood? Didn't fit in. Poor relationship with almost all of my siblings, as I was 10 years older than the next oldest... don't even really know them. They detest me. Moved around even more. No roots. Dreams of education shattered by poverty and sudden family responsibility. Hopeless. No future. Loveless marriage. Always the new guy at Church... and work. Never part of the ward "cliques." No close friends. Any associations I did have that made me feel wanted and needed seemed to end abruptly. First Marriage destroyed. Kicked out of Church I loved. Not wanted. Went off deep end. No close friends. Completely alone. No one to talk to or confide in.
Second marriage? Tried valiantly to "fit in" with new spouse and step-kids, and then with my own kids we had together. Never got there. Ultimately sabotaged and destroyed. Career sabotaged and destroyed. Strike two. Left the Church. Totally hopeless, despondent, and suicidal for the first time. Still no friends. No one to talk to. No support mechanism.
Third marriage? 20 years into it now and still constantly miserable and sabotaging my relationships. Still no friends. Step-children punish and torture my wife for staying with me. Constantly feel guilty and hopeless. Don't "fit in" with family. Don't "fit in" anywhere... not at Church, not professionally (what profession?), not in any sense of the word. Bitter. Angry. Resigned. Too old to "reinvent" myself.
Days, weeks, months, years, decades come and go... all the while realizing that I've never "fit in" anywhere. My Church doesn't want me. Feels like God doesn't want me. I've totally failed at being a husband, father, and apparently, friend. Any "friend" I make only uses me, and then ultimately discards me. No professional success of any kind. Almost 60 and nothing to show for it. If I died tomorrow, not only would my family not be able to afford to bury me, I seriously wonder if anyone would even notice that I was gone... much less miss me. And many in my own family would actually rejoice at my passing.
Where will I go when I die? I'm certain that I won't "fit in" in the hereafter. Not righteous enough. Not good enough. Failure at even that. I wonder sometimes if there's even a place for me... anywhere... where I truly "fit in?"
What happens when you don't "fit in" to eternity? When everlasting happiness and peace is something that someone else... everyone else... gets to enjoy, except you? I imagine "forever" as being a place where I'm consigned to always be the "outsider." Never, ever "fitting in." Anywhere. Forever.
Tonight I gained a tiny bit of clarity, I think. It didn't help me feel better, of course, other than to gain another piece of the never-ending puzzle that is my depression.
The insight? That I just don't "fit in"... and never have.
As I put this theory to the test and went back through my life story and thought about each discrete stage, event, or segment, I came to realize that in almost every case, I felt like I didn't "fit in" somehow.
Childhood? Didn't fit in. Only child. Broken and abused almost from birth through age 11. Moved around a lot. Always the new kid at school. Always the last one chosen. Beaten up. Kids are cruel and mean. Never close to anyone. 8 schools in 12 grades.
Adolescence? Didn't fit in. Tried, and had some limited success socially, but in the end, no cigar. Did a lot of great stuff. Had great opportunities. Only bright, shining spots in my life. Most marred by serious mistakes, though.. Again, very few close friendships. Friends that I did have seemed to be much better people than I knew I was... so I didn't "fit in" with their crowd.
Adulthood? Didn't fit in. Poor relationship with almost all of my siblings, as I was 10 years older than the next oldest... don't even really know them. They detest me. Moved around even more. No roots. Dreams of education shattered by poverty and sudden family responsibility. Hopeless. No future. Loveless marriage. Always the new guy at Church... and work. Never part of the ward "cliques." No close friends. Any associations I did have that made me feel wanted and needed seemed to end abruptly. First Marriage destroyed. Kicked out of Church I loved. Not wanted. Went off deep end. No close friends. Completely alone. No one to talk to or confide in.
Second marriage? Tried valiantly to "fit in" with new spouse and step-kids, and then with my own kids we had together. Never got there. Ultimately sabotaged and destroyed. Career sabotaged and destroyed. Strike two. Left the Church. Totally hopeless, despondent, and suicidal for the first time. Still no friends. No one to talk to. No support mechanism.
Third marriage? 20 years into it now and still constantly miserable and sabotaging my relationships. Still no friends. Step-children punish and torture my wife for staying with me. Constantly feel guilty and hopeless. Don't "fit in" with family. Don't "fit in" anywhere... not at Church, not professionally (what profession?), not in any sense of the word. Bitter. Angry. Resigned. Too old to "reinvent" myself.
Days, weeks, months, years, decades come and go... all the while realizing that I've never "fit in" anywhere. My Church doesn't want me. Feels like God doesn't want me. I've totally failed at being a husband, father, and apparently, friend. Any "friend" I make only uses me, and then ultimately discards me. No professional success of any kind. Almost 60 and nothing to show for it. If I died tomorrow, not only would my family not be able to afford to bury me, I seriously wonder if anyone would even notice that I was gone... much less miss me. And many in my own family would actually rejoice at my passing.
Where will I go when I die? I'm certain that I won't "fit in" in the hereafter. Not righteous enough. Not good enough. Failure at even that. I wonder sometimes if there's even a place for me... anywhere... where I truly "fit in?"
What happens when you don't "fit in" to eternity? When everlasting happiness and peace is something that someone else... everyone else... gets to enjoy, except you? I imagine "forever" as being a place where I'm consigned to always be the "outsider." Never, ever "fitting in." Anywhere. Forever.
Saturday, December 21, 2019
The Christmas Doldrums
Every. Single. Year.
I'm not kidding. Every. Single. Year. it's the same crap.
It seems like EVERY. SINGLE. YEAR. when Christmas rolls around, we're penniless, anxious, depressed, and stressed.
For the last 3 years, we haven't bothered to put up a tree. We haven't decorated for Christmas. It's just been another day. Another depressing, "Let's-get-this-over-with" day.
This year is no different.
Let me backtrack a bit.
Iowa was... an experience. We had high hopes for getting a bit ahead there, which were dashed when we realized that Tracy wasn't going to be getting any transcripts. We lost money every month. When our lease was up, it was a choice of either moving to yet another over-priced house to go further in debt each month staying in Iowa, or moving into a divey crime-infested neighborhood that we could afford, or move out of the state. We chose the latter... counting on getting our deposit back to help us afford the move.
We moved in November (that's part of the problem, quite frankly... we keep moving right before Christmas, draining resources and what little funds we have). The move was incredibly expensive. We couldn't have done it without some miraculous sales on the hotel side, and a loan from my mom. As if the holidays weren't stressful enough, at 62 years of age, I'm still having to borrow money from my parents to live. So much for self-esteem. But I digress.
We arrive in Utah, to new beginnings, new possibilities, and no money. We hit the ground running, however, and work hard from the get-go, living in my parents' basement to save money. So far, so good, right? We find a house that's liveable, but MUCH more expensive than what we've paid before in rent, but we swallowed hard, had faith, and took the plunge.
Getting paid for Tracy's work is the dictionary definition of "frustrating." She doesn't get paid until the attorneys pay. Which sometimes is sooner, sometimes is later. In our case, of course, they simply can't be bothered to pay before Christmas, at least, so that she can be paid. Isn't a priority. So, another Christmas, still destitute. Still struggling. Still stressed out of our minds.
Our deposit from our house in Iowa? The landlords decide, "Hey, they're gone. They won't come after us. We'll just keep it." Can't get a single attorney to call us back... even those we are friends with. Everyone wants to protect and defend the landlords... after all, they have the money. Not the tenants.
Of course, nothing happens the week before/after Christmas, so we don't know if we're going to make rent on the 1st of January or not.
We are tired, weary, exhausted, and utterly despondent. Tired of constantly having to deal with this. Tired of the battle. Tired of being taken advantage of. Tired of... well... all of it, actually.
Fa la la.
I'm not kidding. Every. Single. Year. it's the same crap.
It seems like EVERY. SINGLE. YEAR. when Christmas rolls around, we're penniless, anxious, depressed, and stressed.
For the last 3 years, we haven't bothered to put up a tree. We haven't decorated for Christmas. It's just been another day. Another depressing, "Let's-get-this-over-with" day.
This year is no different.
Let me backtrack a bit.
Iowa was... an experience. We had high hopes for getting a bit ahead there, which were dashed when we realized that Tracy wasn't going to be getting any transcripts. We lost money every month. When our lease was up, it was a choice of either moving to yet another over-priced house to go further in debt each month staying in Iowa, or moving into a divey crime-infested neighborhood that we could afford, or move out of the state. We chose the latter... counting on getting our deposit back to help us afford the move.
We moved in November (that's part of the problem, quite frankly... we keep moving right before Christmas, draining resources and what little funds we have). The move was incredibly expensive. We couldn't have done it without some miraculous sales on the hotel side, and a loan from my mom. As if the holidays weren't stressful enough, at 62 years of age, I'm still having to borrow money from my parents to live. So much for self-esteem. But I digress.
We arrive in Utah, to new beginnings, new possibilities, and no money. We hit the ground running, however, and work hard from the get-go, living in my parents' basement to save money. So far, so good, right? We find a house that's liveable, but MUCH more expensive than what we've paid before in rent, but we swallowed hard, had faith, and took the plunge.
Getting paid for Tracy's work is the dictionary definition of "frustrating." She doesn't get paid until the attorneys pay. Which sometimes is sooner, sometimes is later. In our case, of course, they simply can't be bothered to pay before Christmas, at least, so that she can be paid. Isn't a priority. So, another Christmas, still destitute. Still struggling. Still stressed out of our minds.
Our deposit from our house in Iowa? The landlords decide, "Hey, they're gone. They won't come after us. We'll just keep it." Can't get a single attorney to call us back... even those we are friends with. Everyone wants to protect and defend the landlords... after all, they have the money. Not the tenants.
Of course, nothing happens the week before/after Christmas, so we don't know if we're going to make rent on the 1st of January or not.
We are tired, weary, exhausted, and utterly despondent. Tired of constantly having to deal with this. Tired of the battle. Tired of being taken advantage of. Tired of... well... all of it, actually.
Fa la la.
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