It has taken a while, but it seems clear that I am both too self-critical and absurdly self-involved. My first reaction to certain things is to immediately assume I have done something wrong. First of all, that reveals a terrible lack of trust in myself, a conclusion bolstered by the truth of past experience. While I have always had the ability to remember trivia, and hence, appear smarter than I actually am, the reality is that I have made some poor decisions in my past that have cost me dearly. Slowly, that is turning around, thanks to a healthy dose of perspective from friends and family and the inspiration of a particularly patient and understanding friend who has shown me that being me is as good a goal as any. It’s always interesting when you meet someone who understands your idiosyncrasies in an almost telepathic way.
But, my self-importance is still a stumbling block. If people thought of me as much as I assumed, they would have little time left for anything else. I wrote in an earlier post about a loss of the ability to empathize and sympathize. I fear this occurred because over the years as I withdrew from polite society and spiraled down into a life of lethargy, there was only one person about whom to think. It’s remarkably difficult to come back out of that cave and reclaim the reputation for thoughtfulness which I so casually cast aside. There are far too many people to whom I owe an apology for walking away.
I wish I was emotionally stronger than I am now. It seems every day I find myself on the edge of breaking into tears or laughing uncontrollably. And for such ridiculous reasons. It humbles me that so many people deal with things so much more monumental and life-shaking than I, and do it with so much more grace and dignity.