If we are our own worst critics like “they” say, then that means all the criticism we’ve ever delivered about anyone else is milder than anything we’d ever say about ourselves. It means that anything I’ve ever dished in tweet or blog about this or that many people is nothing compared to the shit I’d say about myself. That is scary, but true. You don’t even know. Only I know the cold dark depths of my emotional crevices so only I can get there, and I was particularly hard on myself today that I actually put myself in a bad mood. I realize this hours later after beating myself up hours earlier but the important thing is I know it’s not the end of the world.
Whatever I was beating myself up about can be remedied and maybe it’s not the worst thing to be critical of yourself because that’s what keeps you pushing to better yourself. At least it does for me. It’s when you stop pushing and let your self-criticism get you down and keep you down that it becomes unhealthy.
This year’s been a momentous year for me and for different reasons than last year was or the year before that, or any year of my life for that matter. I kept promises and I broke promises while helping many people and fucking up royally with others, just like last year and the year before that blah blah blah. My husband and son are healthy and happy and that’s what I tell myself when I’m in my frenzy of being my own worst critic.
Like today, when I realized my to-do list was the same length as it was yesterday because I got basically nothing done yesterday or today outside of making sure my husband and son are healthy and happy. That’s sincere and beautiful but I could have gotten more shit done.
When it comes to self-criticism it’s all about how much you have to prove to yourself, not to others, because nobody’s reading your mind. How much do you have to prove to yourself? I have a lot. You might too or you might not. Figuring that out in the first place is the first step to figuring out a whole lot of other stuff about yourself.
It’s part of why I do share so much. There’s nothing much anyone else can say about me that I don’t know already. People try to cut me but they can’t ever get as deep as I’d get, just like I’m the only one who can pull myself out of my bad mood after some scathing self-criticism. It also helps that my Noah does the melty-heart cutest things I’ve ever witnessed in my life.
So it’s ultimately up to me to swing out of that bad mood and blog to live another day. If I can put myself in it, then I should get myself out of it.
That sounded a tad critical…