I think I was about ten years old when this beautiful, square-jawed American beefcake on television told me to talk myself to success…to tell myself that I CAN do this, that and the next thing…that none of the bad stuff can get to me and divert me off The Path…

I distinctly remember looking at this life coaching pioneer and thinking: what manner of false prophet pours forth such mendacities?! Well, I think my thoughts actually rambled along the lines of huh?!, but it’s my blog and I’ll lie if I want to, lie if I want to…

Even at the tender age of tweeny tween I was acutely aware how the idea of lying to myself was just not for me… I would try to tell myself that I can…absolutely CAN outrun Cindy at netball practice. But while the spirit was willing, the flesh kept saying: sit down, fatass, you haven’t ran in weeks…compared to you, Cindy is Florence Joyner right now.

Chatting myself into impossibilities felt like I was setting myself up for failure. But if I WORKED like Florence Joyner, maybe I could one day bat Cindy into defeat…

As I grew older, my over-developed sense of logic continued its over-development to the point where I perpetually guard against drafting plans containing the slightest hints of self-delusion.

Get up early to exercise? Chick, you wouldn’t get up early to save a family of 6, why would you do it for exercise?

Reject all carbs? Don’t be ridiculous, without carbs there is only darkness and hardship.

This has also led to my belief that emotions must be experienced. As they are. Shitty or great. You can’t lie yourself out of emotions…

…which is why I took the entire weekend to wallow in self-pity over needing a third operation to fix my broken ankle. Oh, and did I wallow. The depth of my wallowness knew no bounds. I emerged on Monday feeling better. Well, in truth I felt a bit ashamed of the self-pity and wanted to roll my eyes at myself so hard it would’ve sounded like a slot machine in a casino. But the self-pity led me to: you’ve gone through worse, why is THIS hitting so hard? And that eventually led an internal conversation in which I learnt the depths of my control-freakishness, which is something my friends told me about but who’s gonna believe those weirdos?

Emotions are sometimes shit. And I have not met an emotion I think we should linger on. But I believe in my innermost inner that if we just felt how we feel and allowed others the space to feel how they feel…without judgment or direction…we’ll be better. And we’ll know more.

There is a storm raging outside here. The rain is coming down like it wants to come take something from me. I’m feeling like I need a chococino…

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