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)
Here's a fear: fear of thinking about work. If I think about work, I'll think about the ways in which I've failed at work. And if I think about the ways in which I've failed at work, I'll imagine the contempt in which my colleagues hold me and the fact that I can never get back into their good graces. And I'll think about how I'm too old to start over in a new career and I would be bad at it anyway, and I see the rest of my life fall away into an abyss of meaninglessness caused by my own cowardice and sloth.

Isn't it impressive that my mind can spin that much existential dread out of a stupid listicle about my field, or a five-minute work assignment? I should write plays or something.

Anyway. Here goes. I'm going to face the abyss and think about work. I'm even gonna start on a work project.

...okay, first attempt got derailed. "I didn't know Windows 10 came with Minecraft installed."

Second attempt: got as far as opening the program, then I had to go look something up in email and I ended up on a blog that led to a Wikipedia spiral.

Third attempt: I wrote two paragraphs before noping out and distracting myself. At least this time I noticed the distraction while it was happening, even if I did fail to stop it.

Fourth attempt: I think I got distracted again in the middle, but I finished this five-minute task! It only took me like forty minutes!

Chalk this one up in the SUCCESS column. Let's see if I can keep it going.
hissingcockroach: (Default)
The trouble with being the Worst Person Ever, of course, is that it doesn't give you a lot of motivation to change. Even if you do a lot better, you'll maybe make it to "Bottom 10% Of People Ever", and that just doesn't seem like a great incentive. May as well keep being Worst, at least it's distinctive.

I started this blog--which presumably no one is reading, but which, like all public web pages, has a potential audience of billions--on the advice of my therapist. I was complaining about how all my fears are of stupid, mundane, nebulous things, like talking about my emotions or doing anything blameworthy ever or associating with groups of children. You can get help and support groups for fears of public speaking or spiders, but I don't have those nice concrete fears. I fear that people are secretly judging me, and that's not a fear it is possible to confront, insofar as I'm not telepathic--and if I started going around asking people "Are you secretly judging me?" I expect the answer would be "well, I am NOW, you paranoid dumbass."

Anyway, my therapist suggested that maybe I could present my little fears to the world and work on overcoming then for an audience, because I actually live for attention. You, my imaginary audience, are supposed to help me with my imaginary fears by daring me to overcome them--and perhaps overcoming my fears in this performative way will give me the incentive that just "not being the worst person in the world" somehow can't provide.

So, imaginary audience, dare me to do some shit.


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November 2016

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