About that telling the truth thing? It’s now requiring me to add an epilogue to what I posted less than an hour ago. Shortly after I hit the “publish” button on my post about celebrating small victories, a brief interaction happened with a family member in which I: a) said the wrong thing and got into a conversation I would have been better off staying out of, and b) realized I had forgotten to do something this person wanted done. Both things were relatively trivial, and the family member in question will probably have forgotten them by tomorrow.
I, on the other hand, had a dizzyingly fast slide down the self-esteem scale. In a moment my entire view of myself shifted. I thought about the many things that I haven’t dealt with and had forgotten while I had some nice times this weekend, and I felt overwhelmed. A flood of judgments washed in, trying to submerge everything positive I had been feeling about myself. That inner demon of mine (see Savage Correction if you don’t know about her) informed me that I have, quite inexcusably, forgotten that I am lazy, incompetent and undisciplined. That the accomplishments I am trying to cherish are pathetic, and everything I wrote earlier tonight is complete bullshit.
I’m writing this now, while it’s fresh and raw, because I want anyone else who experiences this kind of thing to know that you are not alone. I want you to know how fast this can happen and how overwhelming a sudden deluge of negativity feels. I want you to see that all of my great philosophy can vanish in a heartbeat; that I’m not immune to anything. I want you to understand that these feelings I am having are not the truth. They change nothing. In writing to you, I access the fierce anger I would have toward anyone who tried to make one of you feel worthless, and I can use that to defend my soul.
Die in the light of exposure, demon; I see you. I name you. I invoke the power of the truest Self against you.