Sounds like you’re in a tough place right now. Maybe sitting somewhere, just wondering… no, perhaps just knowing there isn’t anything worthwhile about you. And everyone here hears that and chimes in to tell you they think you are worthwhile and they like you.
I’m sure you’ve heard my story before. If you’re like me, you read this stuff and it just doesn’t make any sense. How could anyone really like you, you might be asking yourself. You probably run through ten different reasons why they shouldn’t and then conclude they are lying just to make you feel better.
Oh shit. This is not a good way for me to think. You know, for a long time now, I’ve convinced myself to believe people when they say nice things about me, but I can feel that ability sitting so fragilely inside me and it would take the least excuse for me to give in and get back into tear myself apart mode.
But I’m not going to do that, even though the way I got here, to a place where I could allow myself to think a couple of nice things about myself, is by giving into the despair.
Back then, I couldn’t fight it. I tried, and then I failed, and that made it worse, because I’d beat myself up for not finding a way to stay ok. But at some point I gave up. I couldn’t encourage myself. I couldn’t keep myself going. And I collapsed, mentally speaking. I let myself be depressed and most importantly, I stopped beating myself up for not being able to stop it.
What happened was a kind of sense of relief. Not having to fight to keep moving meant that all of a sudden I had a lot more energy. I had all that energy I had been using to try to fight to save myself and failing and then beating myself up for failing. That was a lot of energy. Now, instead of throwing it away in a useless battle, I threw in the towel on the battle, and had all that energy left over for something else.
Amazingly, I started feeling better once I gave myself permission to be a failure. It seemed like my depression had been feeding off all my efforts to fight it, and once I stopped fighting it, it stopped having any new power to feed off of. I started feeling better, and I also had more energy to work on positive things.
I lost my battle and in losing it, somehow I got better. It no longer mattered that I should fight depression. It was irrelevant. I had lost.
THe other thing that happened was that the issue of my own worth also became irrelevant. I conceded that I was worthless. There was no reason anyone should find anything of value in me. Issue settled. Time to move on.
SO I moved on. I am still worthless, but I don’t think that’s important any more. Irrelevant. My job is to do what I can—to make my own worthless contributions not out of any hope that anyone will confirm that I might be doing something valuable, but just because that’s what I do. I want to try to help even if I have nothing to offer. The attempt is better than doing nothing. If I fail, I’m no worse off than I already am. And maybe I will succeed in some small way, but really, I don’t care. I’m already beyond that.
It’s just… interesting. I like to try. Try to do something good. It’s practice. I know nothing I do is really any good, but it’s worth practicing. Some day (probably never, but that’s not the point) I might do something useful, but until then, it is worth practicing. I may be worth nothing, but it is worth practicing.
I know, it’s long and probably perverse, but it allows me to move forward without having to feel the pressure to prove anything. I assume I am worthless and in doing that, the question is moot. Other concerns become important: such as doing something that matters. And that’s what I try to do, even while not thinking about whether it matters or not. The doing is the point, not the evaluation of the doing. I do what I choose to do.That is the joy and the meaning for me, and that is how I keep moving forward.. It works best when I am doing things for others. In a way, it is all for others, even if it is for myself. But that’s another complicated thing and I’ve gone on too long already.