Why It’s Tiring Being Me
- When I find a fun new blog, I can’t stop thinking about why I can’t write like that.
- When I cook a batch of something fantastic on a weekend, I berate myself for not cooking for every meal, every day.
- When someone takes a flattering picture of me, I feel like I’m tricking everyone because I don’t look that way in real life.
- When I go to therapy (as everyone should) and can’t think of much, I frantically dig through my brain for all of the neuroses I should be solving.
You get the idea. Whatever I’m doing, I should be doing something else. Whoever I’m with, I should be with more – or I should be with someone else – or both at once. Whatever I’ve accomplished, it should have been better or faster.
I know it’s lunacy. I know it’s a hellish treadmill of my own invention. And I know, as Matt Hall says, that I shouldn’t “should” on myself.
It doesn’t make me fun to be around, sometimes.Â It makes compliments hard to take.Â It makes sitting still something I have to practice.
Heaven, to me, will be being enough.