Puppet

The specter of job hunting looms large over my immediate future. I recognize that I need to work to live comfortably; I’m no lazy idiot. I stay busy, but my busy-ness doesn’t pay the bills. I also recognize that I’ve taken much too long to start searching, and have lost a lot of key opportunities in not doing so. I’ve beaten myself up quite a bit over that.

Really, the most abusive person I know is myself. I’m always there to shoot down my ideas. I’m the first to read off a list of requirements and duties on a job posting and tell myself every reason why I don’t measure up, so don’t even try. I’m the one who trots out all the lines to snare myself in a ball of strangling justifications. I’m everybody’s jaded father when it comes to my own possibilities. I’m everybody’s cold and aloof mother on matters of my own motivation and support. I am the worst mentor when it comes to learning for myself.

The big demons of self-doubt are, at their heart, puppets that I control. I’m looking at job postings and trying to judge if the job and I are a suitable fit. It’s in this judgment that my hands automatically start the demons’ mouths to flapping. It’s second nature to do so. I get that. But if I was in a relationship with someone as negative, abusive, derogatory, snarky, sadistic, and mean-hearted as I am to myself, I don’t think I’d be in that relationship for very long. If I’m to survive, I must drop the puppets and carry on.

Published by Shawn

He's just this guy, you know?