No More Lying To Myself

I can barely count on my fingers the occasions in which I’ve started a new blog. Each time I begin with the intent of saying something I believe to be profound on a caffeine buzzed late night and tonight is one of those nights. And this time, just like every other time before I want to say something like, “I’m finally going to commit to this blog” or “This is the beginning of my journey.” I’ve learned recently that if you keep repeating things that don’t work, then you should probably change what you’re doing. Which is why instead of creating a title first I began writing the post instead.

But other than that, I’m not going to say the usual faux-inspirational lies I tell myself to make me feel significant at 2 in the morning. In fact, I’m not even going to make some spectacular statement announcing myself to my fictional audience and describing who I am, who I’ve been, and who I’m going to be. I’m not going to list the things I wish for or the things I want to change. I’m not going to talk about trips I want to take or goals I want to accomplish, and theoretical “hows.”

So instead, I’m going to talk about what’s been on my mind lately.

I learned something new about myself this weekend.

I learned that because I’m constantly trying new things I never finish anything. And I’ve known that about myself. I’ve known that I jump from hobby to hobby and back and forth, but I never had someone tell me that I never finish anything. Until this past weekend. Ever since then it’s been running through my mind, and I also realized that I’ve never worked extremely hard at something. Never.

The people I look up to the most or those that work hard and have the success to show for it. Now, I think I look up to those people because I’ve never done that for myself. I feel so angry and disappointed in myself. There are so many things in my life I could’ve worked hard at, but somehow, someway, I always sabotage myself. But lately, I’ve been trying not to think so much about the things I missed out on. I try to think more about the things I can still do. People tell me I can do so much, but sometimes I get so terrified. Perhaps of my own potential, perhaps of the possible success, or perhaps what people will think. I’m at an age where what other people think of me isn’t as significant as it was when I was young, but hell, it’s still there.

I can end this stream-of-consciousness 2:30 in the morning post with the statement: “I’m finally going to work hard at something,” but I know from years of experience that that is just another lie. I don’t know if I’m “finally” going to work hard. I don’t know if I’m going to utilize my full potential. I don’t know how I’m going to motivate myself or believe in myself. But you know what? I’ve been trying. As much as it kills me to take baby steps I’ve been taking them, and I’m going to keep taking them. I feel confident in that statement because I know I’m not pulling it out of my ass, and for once, I’m being honest with myself.

Maybe that’s the key to all of this – being honest with myself.



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