This is my last post for 2014 and I’ve been deliberating over what it should include. Dancing girls? Cats? A thinly veiled metaphor about the coming year and how I shouldn’t think about how it’s been thirteen years since I graduated high school and that I probably really should have done something worth being proud of at this point like produced one of the two unfinished movie scripts I’ve plotted out I mean you could at least get them finished as short stories everyone’s releasing writing stuff through amazon not that you’d have anything worth getting on amazon except that two star review of that under eye cream that did not reduce your dramatic case of raccoon eye but ENHANCED IT
This is my problem. I have these little defeatist conversations in my head that start out as, “You know, you should cut your hair short.” and end with, “You know, the guinea pigs only like you because you’re feeding them. OH GOD. WHAT IF THAT’S TRUE FOR MY HUSBAND.” It’s not a great headspace to be in.
It’s all about self esteem. I don’t really have any. I mean, I’m not depressed. And I know things I’m factually good at. Things I’ve seen the stats on. But anything outside of that? I just talk myself into circles and then I’m just sort of hiding alone in my basement, drinking wine, and wondering if there’s a way to tell if guinea pigs like their owners. (This may or may not have happened.) (It did.)
So YES. 2015. New Years is when people set resolutions, yes? I think 2015 is the year I learn to have self esteem. I think it’s a skill, just like anything else, that can be learned. It’s not like people can give it to you. I wish I could just say I was fishing for compliments or pandering or something else… but the reality is that when you have low self esteem, you don’t believe a damn word of it even if compliments DO come. All of the awards and accolades and kind words just sort of wash over you because YOU don’t believe a word of it. It’s like eating food you’re allergic to. You like food, you know you’ve enjoyed it in the past, but you don’t feel so great and, lets face it, an allergy is your body telling you it hates you and it wishes you didn’t suck so much and that’s why we can’t have nice things like pistachios, Lauren.
It’s sort of amazing when people have self esteem. I’m not talking about egotistical, self aggrandizing folks. I mean like. Management. Sales people. Amy Poehler. It’s just such a foreign concept to me to rah-rah yourself and be your own cheerleader. But for my friends? Oh man, you’re all fantastic. Everyone should know you and how amazing you are.
For some reason my brain is kind of broken. It’s all for them, not for me. Maybe I can learn how this works. I should at least give it a try. The handful of times I’ve been brave and said “yes” things have worked out okay. No one’s lost a limb yet and I still seems to have a fairly good reputation. I need to be more brave and really trust in myself and my skillset. 2015 I think I’ll give this a solid shake. The worst that happens is that I’m alone in my basement, eating pistachios, and asking my guinea pigs about my rash. Hell, I could be asking you.