I was extremely efficient last week.
Remember that list of a million things I talked about? I was knocking them off one by one.
Here’s the thing about lists that is no surprise to anyone- after one list is done another one takes its place. I used to be a woman of few lists. I was so adept at getting crap done, by the time I sat down to make a list I didn’t need to write it down.
Then, over the last few years, I started to morph into a person with multiple lists and post-it notes. It is maddening. Especially when I know I used to be good at it.
I was watching a show on cable not long ago… well, let me digress for a little background… I upgraded my cable at home and now I get e-v-e-r-y channel on earth- even all the pay channels (for a promotional period of course). So when I am wide awake and stressed at night I watch TV, specifically movies and reruns of “Top Chef” and “Say Yes to the Dress”… ummm, yeah…don’t ask about that second one. I got married 15 years ago and yet I still love looking at wedding dresses. Don’t judge me.
Anyway..I had been watching a movie (can’t remember which) and one of the lines from a character in it resonated with me:
“I don’t try anymore, because I am afraid. It is much easier to not try at all. If I don’t bother, I don’t have to worry about being a failure.”
It was as if a giant arrow virtually appeared above my head pointing down at me… THIS IS YOU STUPID.
…Well, damn! No wonder I am procrastinating lately. It was as if that one line was written expressly to me.
(mental note, mention this to Dr. Anne)
The next day I was wandering around the house and looked at projects that were unfinished or never started at all. And it dawned on me that I am my own roadblock to ever being that person from years ago that went missing during infertility treatment. I am letting my failures beat me every single day. Still.
I won’t try because I am afraid. Every friggin’ day.
Therefore, nothing gets done. And the list grows longer. And I get mad at myself.
The cycle is never-ending.
Hell, I have a project (related to my biggest failure) that I am not even blogging about here. Why? Because if I commit to it here, in THIS place, it’s as if I am setting myself up to fail.
Finally, it all becomes clear. The tragic part? My greatest relief, writing, has been a victim of my own crazy neuroses. Somehow I have grown to expect that bad luck is hiding in the shadows, just lurking and waiting to jump out and tear my heart to pieces.
The monster that I blogged about during my egg donor cycle has exacted its final blow.
It seems that I myself have become the monster I always dreaded.
How’s that for self-realization???
I had a dream last night, like many of the ones before it, but this one was different. In this dream I wasn’t running or hiding. I was happy. A person I’ve never met told me a secret, and it was the best news ever. It felt real. I woke up feeling elated. Positive, and with new purpose. Determined to make my dream a reality.
If I can change, I can stop making lists and start focusing on today.
Perhaps I can escape the sense that I am a victim, and start acting victorious.
It’s a tall order, but something I need to do.
I’m adding it to my list, pronto.