Exciting and Positive

I want something exciting and positive to happen today. The word ‘positive’ is important here, because I know people who would welcome a disaster as ‘exciting’. I may be involved in emergency and disaster management, but I don’t like that kind of excitement. So, I’m specifying exciting and positive.

I see excitement as something that will come into my life by an external happening. One thing I’ve noticed is that, at age 60 (almost), excitement doesn’t come from hard work. Hard work yields … more work to do. I imagine this revelation at a game show, where the emcee says, “And for your hard work you get … more hard work!” I don’t mind doing hard work, but it’s certainly not adding up to exciting. Or positive1.

I guess I’m looking for an opportunity. Or the Bluebird of Happiness dropping something good in my lap. Something to break the monotony and turn my emotions into something happier instead of ennui.

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  1. Moulage gives me positivity.

Self-Isolation

Hey. How did I get into this hole?

I’ve been talking around the problem for a while. I have been isolating myself. It has been a slow process that began not with COVID, but with an annual evaluation that didn’t go as well as I thought (three years ago). Then there was a lack of success in getting my book out and some harsh judgments on my part about my personality (which is a little loud, a little weird, and more than a little awkward.)

An insidious slide

I judged myself more and more on everything, sliding from “I do so many things wrong” to “I am wrong.” I avoided people in person, then avoided people on Facebook, afraid to do or say or be stupid.

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This seems to be an odd thing for a fifty-something woman to go through, I know. But a fifty-something woman whose brain is wired to be depressed? We don’t think of how much our emotions influence our perception of reality. And it’s an insidious slide, especially for someone like me, who can suppress problems pretty well.

The way out

I’ll be honest, I’m struggling here. “Nobody likes you” is a hard thing to argue against, and
“Just write on Facebook” is daunting. The thing about adulting, however, is that you’re the only one who can fix your own problems. So I turn back to 1) cognitive journaling and 2) taking risks. What’s the worst that happens if I put a note on Facebook?

I don’t imagine too much of a struggle once I get back to journaling (that’s the problem — I’ve been avoiding it). I will schedule once a day whether or not I think I need it. And I will try to get back into those things that draw attention to myself (talking about my writing, talking about gardening, talking period) and get connected with people once more.

Time for me to join the human race.