Proud of Myself Again

Proud of Myself Again

 

I’m super nervous and fidgety, yet I don’t know what to do and run out of energy and get overstimulated often, so I will do what I do best besides eat (since I fail at sleeping now). I will write. I don’t know what I’m going to write about. I was going to go ahead about my love of writing, but that seems so trivial. How does one put into words the overflowing of cursive on a page when a story comes to life and a “two-page assignment” turns into a ten-page story about Thanksgiving, or a haiku turns into a twelve-verse haiku about Jesus healing the sick in a nursing home?

I used to love a challenge. I challenged myself all the time. I want to cry thinking about how passionately motivated I was, because all I can think about is all the extra work that took and for what? Was it really for myself? I think part of it was. I was proud of myself. When did others being proud of me become so stupidly important? I want to be proud of myself again.

I want to be proud of myself again.

I don’t think I’m going to post a link to this anywhere. Let them find it if they want to. I want to share myself with other people, but it has come at a cost, and the cost has been self-validation. I traded my self-esteem for the validation of others, and that has to stop. Even now I feel compelled to write out my usual lengthy post, but I don’t feel it. When I opened my computer, I thought I had a lot to say, but I think I just needed to realize that one piece and dwell on it.

Are you proud of yourself?

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