hissingcockroach: (Default)
Because egotism and a thirst for attention are among my awful flaws, I find myself really wanting someone to read this blog. But if they did read the blog, and I knew about it, I would feel obligated to post, and then it would be too much pressure and I might stop posting. I guess my ideal reader would be someone I don't like very much, who also doesn't like me very much (so I suppose this imaginary reader is just hatereading this thing? I haven't really thought this through.)

I suppose if I want someone to be inspired by my struggle, or indeed care about it at all, I should go find a forum of some kind to post on. But I have no idea where to look for that sort of thing or what the norms are if and when I find it.

Edit: I went and added some Interests to my profile to increase the chances someone would stumble across it. I am the most pathetic person in existence.
hissingcockroach: (Default)
I've been unnecessarily paranoid about obscuring as many aspects of my identity as possible, but I suppose that it's okay to mention that I'm disappointed in the results of the recent presidential election in the United States; that only narrows it down to about 50% of the US population, and it's already obvious I'm in the US because I write using American spelling and idiom. Anyway, for a brief shining moment there, I was upset for a reason I couldn't blame on myself. It was paradoxically pleasant.

Now I'm back to my resting state of bitter self-hatred and ineffectuality, though. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted.

I've been thinking, though, about truth, and self-assessment, and the ways in which recent events have proven that having an unrealistically high self-assessment does not seem to be a barrier to success. Having an unrealistically low self-assessment, on the other hand, does seem to present problems--at least if you react to it the way I tend to, which is to say, by curling up in a little ball of self-hatred and wishing I didn't exist. (I guess I can say "wishing I was dead" here. I reflexively euphemise my suicidal ideation because I don't want to worry people, but no one here knows me so I don't have to worry about it. I'm really not going to commit suicide, both because it would devastate my loved ones and because it has such a high probability of leading to long-term disability instead of death. But I do think about it a lot and I wish I could talk about it more without worrying about getting carted off to a mental institution.)

So anyway, I want to take a break from self-criticism to state some positive things that I intellectually believe to be true, even if I find them emotionally unconvincing:
- I am somewhat competent at a lot of things, even work things.
- Most people I know like me, or at least have positive feelings toward me. They would probably have a positive reaction to me reaching out and making social contact, even if I am not very good at it, even if it has been a while.
- I care a lot about doing the right thing, possibly too much, even though I fall short sometimes
- There are many people who procrastinate just as pathologically as I do, feel just as much self-pity, and are generally broken in similar ways. I am sure no one is broken quite exactly like me, but I have compatriots.
- Sometimes I will fuck up and that's OK. Sometimes I will even fuck up over and over and over again, apparently never learning anything from my mistakes, and that is STILL okay because it turns out that humans are very prone to that sort of thing and I am, among other things, a human. In the event that someone looks down on me for fucking up, well, there is nothing I can do about that, they are entitled to their opinion.
I am one single fucked-up human being and I cannot save the world and I cannot do everything perfectly and I cannot make everyone like me or respect me.

Basically, I tend to shut down upon trying to do anything useful because it reminds me either that I haven't done the thing yet, or I don't know how to do the thing, and therefore I am THE WORST, and I shrivel up into a little ball of anxiety and self-hatred and can't do the thing. It's very self-defeating.

I mean, let's posit that I am indeed the worst person in the world--well, I've ruled out suicide, attractive as it is, so that leaves just continuing to muddle through and do the best I can while being the worst person in the world. I mean, really, if I manage to get anything done whilst being the worst, laziest, most cowardly, most procrastinate-y person in the world, that's pretty impressive, isn't it? I should get a gold star.


Nov. 6th, 2016 05:59 pm
hissingcockroach: (Default)
I added a user icon. I chose the name of this blog because a despised creature named after its primary method of complaining seemed appropriate to the theme. But in reality, I think hissing cockroaches are pretty cool animals--so there's some secret hope for redemption there, I guess.

It occurs to me now that it might have been more appropriate to pick an animal that is outwardly acceptable but has little-known awful behaviors. Being despised by most but secretly pretty cool, like a cockroach, seems preferable to being outwardly tolerable but secretly abhorrent, which seems closer to my current situation. I guess even in this blog devoted to how shitty I am, I managed to sneak in some undeserved self-regard.

When I was a kid, my fantasy self was often a big toothy monster that scared everyone away except for the occasional brave soul willing to try to befriend it. Maybe that's what I should aspire to.


hissingcockroach: (Default)

November 2016

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