... self-loathing

Today I hate myself.

Let's be clear. I do not condone self-loathing as a lifestyle, but as a mood it can be very useful. It is my belief that no self-respecting individual has become so without experiencing their fair share of self-hatred. It's a catalyst for growth.

So today, when multiple elements of the life I want came knocking on my door and I had to turn them away due to poverty, ill-health, and the simple fact that this past week I've gotten out of practice when it comes to being ready for opportunities... well, it kinda made me hate myself.

I've spent all day half-heartedly starting projects: cleaning (a bit), writing (shitty) poetry, knitting (and unravelling) various projects, contacting friends (and then flaking out on them), stretching (well, thinking about it), and basically continuing my existence as the useless lump I've been for the last 2 weeks. Except that last week I had the excuse of being deathly ill. This week I'm just being lazy.

And I HATE being lazy.

So get your lazy ass up and do something, you say. To which I reply, yes. You're absolutely right. My excuse is gone, only the habit remains. And thank god I'm fully equipped to get that awful feeling of self-disgust in the pit of my stomach when I'm behaving in a manner that I consider to be repulsive. (Repulsive for ME. If laziness is your thing and it makes you sublimely happy then I'm all for it. For YOU.)

The beauty of self-loathing is that it's absolutely unendurable. It's the emotional equivalent of extreme nausea. They both usually mean you've done something you shouldn't have done, fixing the problem is going to be very unpleasant, but afterwards you'll feel much better. And I can tell you, after being lazy, anxious, and indecisive for 2 weeks, getting myself to get up, get dressed, and leave the fucking house, is almost as difficult as throwing up. But once I get out there the toxins are purged and I can breathe again.

Solving this problem has been extra vomity today because on top of the vast inertia sitting on top of me, is a big fat pile of poverty. That's like eating rat poison and then finding out you can't puke it up because you ARE a rat and rats can't vomit. Ok, it's not that bad, I'm not going to die from it, but the self-loathing has been especially acute today due to the fact that most of the things I would usually do to solve my lethargy problem involve paying subway fare at the very least. Which I, quite literally, can't afford. The urge to vomit increases.

The good news and the bad news is that right now all I can do is wait. The wheels are set in motion, life is on the up and up, but until my paycheck clears my bank account I'm stuck. Well, so it goes. Perhaps this instance of self-loathing is of the "wait until it passes" variety as opposed to the "sorry, but you're just gonna have to puke your guts out" variety.

And, hello, I have a paycheck that will be clearing my bank account. If that's not good news I don't know what is.

But in the meantime, I've had enough of sitting around. I'm just gonna have to get more creative with my problem solving. I'll just have to, you know, grow. And, uhhh, use my brain. How awful. But if it weren't for hating myself today, I'd just continue to sit around waiting. Thank you, horrible feeling of self-loathing, for lighting that fire under my ass.

...human trafficking.

Bear with me for a minute here.

This post is about self-worth, but not in the beautiful, happy, flowery, "we're all pricelessly unique" kind of way. I'm talking about money. How much am I worth? Not how much to I make or own or have access to. How much money am I worth? It's a difficult question because, yes, I am pricelessly unique, but I KNOW that, and that information isn't helping me form an idea of how much money I believe I deserve to make each year. I hit a wall when it comes to thinking about myself monetarily, and I'm taking a wrecking ball to that wall right now.

So, to make the question more palatable I'll change it up a bit. The new, and more effective question, is this. How much money are my skills worth? Well, hmmm. The question is more specific now, but also somehow more overwhelming. I have so many skills, you see. Surely my versatility alone is also a skill?

So that's on my to-do list. Make an inventory of my skills and set a price point for each of them. Good. But I'm not going to do that here, because really, who wants to read that shit?

I'm gonna test out a cultural/sociological theory on you guys; poor, unsuspecting readers that you are. So often we are discouraged from thinking about self-worth in monetary terms. Now, I agree, one should not develop a sense of self-worth that is tied to one's salary. But what a person makes is different from what a person deserves to make, and my theory (here it comes!) is that ENTIRELY separating money from self-worth serves to keep poor people poor. They make what they make, and if they feel they are worth more than what they make, it's an intangible worth. That intangible worth is HIGHLY valuable, but it won't necessarily help you change your stars. Those who are able to connect their sense of self-worth to a specific monetary sum are better equipped to actually go out and actually make that much money. This is what the children of rich people learn how to do from the moment they are born.

I'm learning it right now.

I deserve to make at least 6 figures. I'm gonna start with a high 5 goal (high 5!). I'll get to work on that.

...theatre

For all my natural talent I honestly can't help but feel that my acting is no better than mediocre.  Maybe I'm just subconsciously fishing.  But I do know that with everything else I'm doing I'm having some trouble doing all the character research I should be doing.  I just used the word "doing" three times in one sentence.

Despite my feelings of inadequacy the Metro State production of Homeland Security is really coming together.  Every time we rehearse it gets more and more real.  And more and more absurdly hilarious.

It feels so good to be part of a creative ensemble.  And it feels so good to be performing again.