Posted by: Kristy | May 15, 2009

This is what word vomit looks like

I grew up inundated with the thought that I could accomplish anything to which I set my pretty little mind.

I could be anything. Do anything.

And I believed that.

So why now, two decades later, do I flop more than a fattened-up guppie stranded on a wooden deck at noon in the middle of a July day?

I flop and flop and flip and flop, hopping I might propel myself into the ocean or lake only feet away from me. So close I  can see it out of my glassy eye that isn’t pressed against the stupid wooden deck on which I’m laying. A chance for refreshment and opportunity and joy only a few massive flips away.

But then the sun goes behind a cloud so it’s not so scorching and a little kid mercifully picks me up by my tail and plops me in a sand bucket filled with water. It’s not bad in the bucket. I can breathe again, and there are a few other fish in here so I have friends. Truly, not a bad deal. Except I still remember the short glimpse I had of bigger waters.

That’s how I feel. Like I’m good. Everything’s OK. Great, even. I have other fish to play with and who love me and with whom I can interact. It’s not bad scenery. I’m not a loser guppie.

But there is this huge ocean of untapped potential a few flops away. And I’m racking my little fishy brain trying to figure out how to get there.

I applied for a paper in Arizona. I applied for a publishing company in New York. Among other random applications here and there. I don’t think it’s the job, though, as much as my cousin may argue that it is, indeed, my job. I like my job.

I have my family here. They love me. I have some friends. They put up with me. 🙂

I’m not directionless. I have some goals, short and long-term. Things are good.

But why do I feel as if they could be better?

Am I just spoiled? Am I spoiled and selfish and need to give myself a stern talking to?

Here’s the deal: The best discipline tool my parents ever used was not to spank me or give me a time-out. No, the best thing they could do was tell me they were disappointed in me.

I have transfered that to every other relationship in my life. I don’t want to disappoint my parents. I don’t want to disappoint my teachers, or my boss. I don’t want to disappoint my friends. Or even a boyfriend. I don’t want to disappoint God.

But I’m starting to disappoint myself. And that’s a problem.

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Responses

  1. Uggggggggh, I’m the same way. The worst thing my parents could ever do to me – and it’s happened – is tell me they were disappointed in me. It’s awful. I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of it, even though I’m apparently a grownup.


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