At my worst

When I’m at my best, I am truly amazing. I am loving and generous and joyful and resilient and beautiful and strong and hopeful and kind and patient and so forth. I have many excellent qualities which I love about myself, and I hope it is not arrogant of me to declare them publicly. I am an amazing human being, a wonderful person who inspires others and changes things around me in a way that create more joy, love, kindness, acceptance and hope. At least, this seems to be the case a lot of the time.

But when I’m at my worst… The slightest challenge can overwhelm me. I struggle to care about anyone other than myself. I can scarecely muster the strength to look someone in the eyes, and if I attempt a smile (as I did on a walk a few minutes ago) it is a piteous twitching of the lips without any real kindness behind it. I worry intensely about how other people see me for fear that they will hurt me, turn on me or cut off support for me. And all of this leads into the vicious cycle of being stuck up my own arse (a phrase which I find peculiarly beautiful). That is to say, I focus on my problems and thus amplify their importance in my life, and they become bigger and harder to overcome/let go of, and I am crushed beneath their weight. I cannot relax. I cannot see the point in living (though I can certainly see the harm my death would cause others). I feel like nothing ultimately matters and that maybe it would be easier to not be alive.

I am, as Rog and Naomi might say, “right in the thick of it” at the moment. This is a temporary state of mind which I find difficult to escape sometimes. My old fears and thoughts and habits wash over me like tidal waves and I cannot imagine a future that is positive and bright. But I can sustain the hope that “If I just continue to live… If I just continue to let time pass… If I just continue to make an effort to be happy, and if possible to be kind and care about others, these feelings will pass.”

To this end, I write my lines. I used to think “If I write these affirmations, I will feel better. That is our deal. I will write, you (whoever you are) will make me feel better.” But I have since realised this kind of thinking is disempowering, unhelpful and essentially unrealistic. I now think “Okay. It seems that I am feeling a bit shit at the moment. I make the choice now to write my lines. Not because I will necessarily feel better, though I hope that is the case, but because I choose to make a stand in time. To say in the face of my old stuff ‘Hey, you suck. I don’t want you to be important to me anymore. I choose a different way of living, of responding, of being.'” And that thought, that action, makes all the difference, regardless of the outcome.

I wanted to write this blog to give others an idea of what I’m like on my bad days. I guess I wanted to share my feelings in a moment of struggle, though I’m finding it hard to see the point in why I bother sharing at all. But I also, I guess, wanted to spread the message of hope. That even though life can kick you in the teeth and suck really, really hard, it doesn’t mean things won’t change. And if people know that I believe it, maybe they’ll believe it too.

Peace everyone. Hopefully this is just a very short phase and I’ll be feeling amazing again in a few minutes/hours/days.

Love,

Xin

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2 thoughts on “At my worst

  1. Darla says:

    Thank you. You can’t know how much I needed to read that.

    • Xin says:

      Darla, you are very welcome. I wasn’t sure if I made the right decision by posting when I was feeling so terrible, but I am tremendously glad to know I was able to help you in any way shape or form. Like everyone, I have my good moments and my bad moments, but the bad moments pass and seem to get smaller and occur less frequently the more I make choices to try and be happy anyway.

      All the best to you my friend. Feel free to fling me an email if you’d like to chat.

      Love,
      Xin

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