Self-Sabotage

I’m seeing a pattern in my life that I’m sure has been prevalent since birth, only I’m just now noticing. It is this thing where I intentionally pull things down around my ears when I should be taking great strides forward. For me, it happens in one of three ways. I use these weapons in nearly equal measures, 1 and 2 on a frequent, low-grade level, and 3 as a grand gesture used every once in a while to really drive the point of my worthlessness home.

1. Using another’s creativity to fulfill me instead of my own. (i.e. watching too much TV, spending too much time on the Internet or reading in an unhealthy, life-ignoring way.)

This creativity squasher weasels its way into my life in very subtle ways. At first I’m just stealing a bit of time during my day, here and there. Instead of using time to write - whether it be a half an hour in the morning when the kids are still sleeping or around lunchtime when I’m taking a break from fake work to eat or for hours late at night, like now, when I have brain energy that won’t leave me alone and I have to get rid of it somehow - I get sucked into living vicariously.

When this shortcoming first starts to manifest itself, I’m careful to balance out reading or watching TV or computer time with writing time. I tell myself I just need to decompress a little, that’s all. I’ll just read for an hour or watch one show. Then I’ll write. Soon, though, I’m drawn into the abyss. Either I find myself reading excessively, wasting my way through the Hunger Games series in two days, or I’m abusing Netflix, watching Firefly episodes back to back until four in the morning.

Don’t get me wrong. Both Suzanne Collins and Joss Whedon are worthy of my adoration and obsession. They’re both mind-blowingly creative in ways that are so damn rich it feels almost as good to be hooked up to their energy as it does my own. Almost. It’s certainly easier. And if I could ever do anything that feels good in a healthy way, I’m sure I could regulate enough to just enjoy them instead of using them to harm myself. Alas, I’ve never been much of a regulator. And when obsession is in cahoots with low self-esteem in my life, it’s never pretty.

The only solution is to knock it off. There’s something to be said for awareness. It helps to be able to see that I’m in this place. It makes the bouts shorter-lived. When I notice that I’ve, once again, been sucked in I am forced to stop. If I can’t do it by my own willpower, it helps if I tell on myself. If I say it out loud to someone else, it's not as easy to do it.

2. Veering off the path I know works. (i.e. being lazy.)

So this looks a lot like slacking. The dedicated writing time goes out the window. I’m sure I’ll have time to write somewhere in my day. I stop setting my alarm. I think when Dan’s alarm goes off should be early enough for me to wake up. Except that when Dan’s alarm goes off, then Dan is awake.

See, when I’m in a good place, I’m usually up at 5:00 or 5:30 because I can do my thing while the house is still quiet. I don’t just mean a lack of noise. I mean I am not battling with my family’s energy. They are three of the most compelling, pure, brilliant people I know, and when they’re around, I have trouble paying attention to anything else. Also, they need a lot of things all the time. When they are still sleeping – the heavy sleep they’re still in before the sun comes up – I can’t even feel them in the house. I can focus on getting my head right and spend some time preparing myself to write and then actually write in a disciplined, committed way. If I don’t prepare myself, sure, I can write, but it’s hard for me to get totally connected and I can end up writing from a self-indulgent, inauthentic place.

But if I do my morning pages, for instance, if I keep my commitment to write three pages longhand, stream-of-consciousness every morning before I do anything else, I can rely on that to free me from my weaknesses and blocks. I have to empty out the garbage before I can really access my mind in any kind of significant, unafraid way.

Then I can move onto the other tried and true tools. There are some books I read – two writing books right now, The Artist’s Way and Bird by Bird, and some other spiritual books. The Book of Awakening is a new delicious addition. Then some prayer and meditation and I’m on my way, my listening mind clear, purposeful in my intent. These are all 100% guaranteed tools that ensure my productivity and happiness, but I can’t use them if I’m holding weapons of self-sabotage in my hands.

3. Using circumstances in my life in order to feel badly about myself.

These circumstances always involve interactions with people who I perceive aren’t treating me right. Julia Cameron, who wrote The Artist’s Way, calls these circumstances crazymakers. I can look back and see that every time I have come to a major turning point on this journey where I needed to be more trusting in myself and this process, have even bigger faith, I have brought circumstances into my life that confirm what it is I really think about myself. It appears to me like someone I have brought into the fold has betrayed me in some way. I internalize whatever has happened, sure that it has everything to do with me and what an awful, unworthy person I am, and proceed to bludgeon myself into not writing, or living, whichever the case may be. (see Bad Things Happen, 10/14/09)

Unfortunately, when I’m in a bad place, it doesn’t take much to knock me over. What Julia Cameron says is that as a blocked artist, I am pretty much willing to go to any lengths to stay blocked. Deep down, I’m so intent on not succeeding, so afraid of what that might really mean, that it really doesn’t take much to get me to throw up my hands and say, “Forget it! It wasn’t working anyway. I’m pretty much a piece of garbage. I was just fooling myself.” A mostly innocent comment, the tone of a Facebook post, the wrong answer if I ask someone to read my book, these are things I can turn into tools of self-destruction in seconds flat.

I feel like I came into this world being too much. Too sensitive, too loving, too open, too trusting, too out there with everything. These “too” traits are things that get me into trouble. If warped in just the right way, they are the character defects that place me in a position to be hurt with the crazymakers. I come on strong. Too much muchiness, if you know what I mean. If I vilify this trait instead of exalting it, it can harm me.

But there is that choice, to focus on paying tribute to this instead of using it against myself. Yes, this part of me may sometimes serve a darker purpose if I’m not careful. But a lot of the time it is exactly the thing that forges the bond. In the sustained relationships in my life, it is this effusiveness that draws people to me, that allows me to be fully myself. I think it’s also what allows me to tap into the collective unconscious and write things there’s no way I should be able to write effectively. It allows me to absorb and listen and express myself in a really powerful way.

When I am reflective about the way I work inside my life in a public way (i.e. blogging about my innermost ugly) I can trick myself into healing. When I say this out loud, it makes it much harder to allow myself to do these things.

Because as much as all of this is true, I am just as intent on succeeding. So there’s that.