One day last week, I went to write a “what’s up with Diana” blog entry while I was at work. Just snagging five minutes here and there, so it was kind of disjointed and stream-of-consciousness. What I came up with was so unexpectedly negative, I didn’t even feel I should post it. I kept it in my home e-mail, though, just so I could look back at it later with a giant WTF.
I’ve been under some weird kinds of stress lately, I guess. Nothing earth-shattering, but a collection of little things. My aikido rank test is coming up on Saturday the 26th, and I don’t feel as ready as I should be. I have training for work in Columbus and in Chicago coming up next month, and I’m still unsure about how to properly book my hotels and my flight out to O’Hare, so I’ll be sure to be reimbursed by the company. I’m in the midst of a weight-loss challenge, which I seem not to be winning right now.
All of these things seem petty and manageable on their own (and I’m sure there are others I’ve left out, including the monthly hormonal BS), but their combined effect is unusually powerful right now. I can go from zero to pissed in about two seconds, for no good reason. Poor Aaron is positive it’s all him, but it seriously isn’t. It’s me. Being weird. In a not-so-good way.
No, sir, I don’t like it.
The trick seems to be balancing my diet, exercise, and productivity to gently affect my mood. If one of those goes down the shitter, the whole balance is thrown off, and I go down some fucked-up spiral of “I suck”-ness. I’m always so hard on myself for not living up to my own unreasonably high standards. It’s like I have to consciously psyche myself out in such a way to fool the part of my brain that knows I’m not doing everything “right.”
I want to be confident. I want to be knowledgeable. I want to be healthy. I want to look good. I want to feel good. I want to like myself. I want to like myself as I am. I want to stop looking in the mirror and asking myself, “What is WRONG with me?”
I want to want what I already have.