I'm cool. I mean I really am. I have a good sense of humor, I am confident doing my own thing, and I get the social boundaries that so sneakily implement themselves throughout lives and relationships. I'm cool. I used to try to BE cool. Which ultimately led to the absolute WORST version of myself, but that's a tangent we won't quite touch on. Just know this - I'm cool. I've got a good head on my shoulders.
Onceinawhile, however, amidst life's challenges and self-doubting moments, my cool goes missing. Not for truly extensive periods of time, but it definitely checks out. Where? Beats me. That's right folks, I lose my cool.
It would be easy to keep that detail from you, as writing and hiding behind a black screen makes me as cool as my next sentence. But to really keep things real, it's only fair that I admit I've been a bit...off...the past few days. I wish when I lost my cool it just made me super nerdy and introverted and quiet. That would be humbling. When my cool seeps away, though...it gets replaced by the 3 M's: The Mania. The Moron. The Masochist.
The Mania is the worst part. That's the 15 year old insecure child in me. It thinks that everyone hates me, and oddly enough, it hates me too. It finds me annoying and pathetic, yet it can't seem to stop any behavior that perpetuates those characteristics. It makes me ask questions 3 or 4 times. It makes me impulsively shop online for things I REALLY REALLY don't want or need. It makes my heart beat fast, and it is POSITIVE that I'm unlovable. Hurtful hobbies include crying for no reason, avoiding work deadlines by WebMDing, and entirely too much texting. All of that independence and confidence? Mania rips it out from under me. I need, I fear, and I self-loathe.
The Moron is slightly more manageable, but really just as much of an asshole. The moron is close friends with Mania, often using her to excuse the moron's lack of organization and articulation. The moron is pretty rude - making conversations about her, rather than about anything or anyone else. Ironically, the moron often comes at you (and me) condescendingly. You think you know the answer? Well, the moron knows better. The moron thinks no one will notice that she didn't brush her hair because she checks quickly in dim lighting. The moron procrastinates and won't admit to doing so. The moron thinks the biggest idiot of all...is ME.
Then there's the Masochist. She wants to try on all of her bathing suits and convince herself that she's acquired stretch marks, rolls, and unattractive pockets of fat everywhere. Any time she loses character and gets pushed by a positive "actually you look pretty good" though, she shoves back twice as hard and ultimately prevails. She beats me down, chastising the Mania and the Moron, pointing out all of our flaws. She thinks every effort isn't good enough. She wants the pain-gain theory to be tested past its limits. She wants sleep to be limited, prodding the empty minutes with ugly and dooming thoughts. She giggles viciously at the attempt to move past her tenacity, but she rarely gives in.
Onceinawhile, however, amidst life's challenges and self-doubting moments, my cool goes missing. Not for truly extensive periods of time, but it definitely checks out. Where? Beats me. That's right folks, I lose my cool.
It would be easy to keep that detail from you, as writing and hiding behind a black screen makes me as cool as my next sentence. But to really keep things real, it's only fair that I admit I've been a bit...off...the past few days. I wish when I lost my cool it just made me super nerdy and introverted and quiet. That would be humbling. When my cool seeps away, though...it gets replaced by the 3 M's: The Mania. The Moron. The Masochist.
The Mania is the worst part. That's the 15 year old insecure child in me. It thinks that everyone hates me, and oddly enough, it hates me too. It finds me annoying and pathetic, yet it can't seem to stop any behavior that perpetuates those characteristics. It makes me ask questions 3 or 4 times. It makes me impulsively shop online for things I REALLY REALLY don't want or need. It makes my heart beat fast, and it is POSITIVE that I'm unlovable. Hurtful hobbies include crying for no reason, avoiding work deadlines by WebMDing, and entirely too much texting. All of that independence and confidence? Mania rips it out from under me. I need, I fear, and I self-loathe.
The Moron is slightly more manageable, but really just as much of an asshole. The moron is close friends with Mania, often using her to excuse the moron's lack of organization and articulation. The moron is pretty rude - making conversations about her, rather than about anything or anyone else. Ironically, the moron often comes at you (and me) condescendingly. You think you know the answer? Well, the moron knows better. The moron thinks no one will notice that she didn't brush her hair because she checks quickly in dim lighting. The moron procrastinates and won't admit to doing so. The moron thinks the biggest idiot of all...is ME.
Then there's the Masochist. She wants to try on all of her bathing suits and convince herself that she's acquired stretch marks, rolls, and unattractive pockets of fat everywhere. Any time she loses character and gets pushed by a positive "actually you look pretty good" though, she shoves back twice as hard and ultimately prevails. She beats me down, chastising the Mania and the Moron, pointing out all of our flaws. She thinks every effort isn't good enough. She wants the pain-gain theory to be tested past its limits. She wants sleep to be limited, prodding the empty minutes with ugly and dooming thoughts. She giggles viciously at the attempt to move past her tenacity, but she rarely gives in.
It is likely implied, but "cool" doesn't really appear with any of the 3 M's. It packs its bags and checks out fully. Upon return, it's a bit of an adjustment...
Which leads me to this blog post. I've mentioned before that drinking isn't a part of my life, but I parallel the feeling of coming out of the "MMM" state of mind with coming out of a bad night of binge drinking. There's regret, embarrassment, and no where to look but at yourself. I may have said the wrong things, handled situations improperly, or even fictionalized events to mean something beyond what they really were. All because of a torn ACL? No. That wouldn't be fair to my ACL to say that. But it's part of the equation, no doubt.
You know how I said I was cool? Call it what you want - tooting my own horn, being self-righteous, blah blah blah. It's not like that. I'm not talking about having a large group of people surround me while I eat my lunch and guffaw over my outfit. (Though that wouldn't hurt anyone's cool factor, I'm sure). I haven't always been cool. But you know what makes me cool now? I'm honest. Honesty is about as cool as one can get if you ask me. And the only cure to the 3 M's is to recognize them, address them, and kindly tell them I'm not interested in any sort of ongoing relationship with them. To ignore them entirely or pretend they don't or didn't exist is BS! I got weird. I admit it. It probably only leaked out toward a few close people in my life, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen. Shame is a pretty debilitating emotion to carry around, and I refuse to let that set me back.
We all have some faces or "M's" that keep us from our best self now and then. Ever seen the movie Identity? Case and point. I got my cool back, my world isn't ending, and I am once again reminded about the effervescent roller coaster that is a mental and physical recovery. While I have every intention of keeping a handle on my cool, chances are, it might take off again in the future. Until then, bid farewell to the Mania, the Moron, and the Masochist. It's just me here, folks. Take it or leave it.
Which leads me to this blog post. I've mentioned before that drinking isn't a part of my life, but I parallel the feeling of coming out of the "MMM" state of mind with coming out of a bad night of binge drinking. There's regret, embarrassment, and no where to look but at yourself. I may have said the wrong things, handled situations improperly, or even fictionalized events to mean something beyond what they really were. All because of a torn ACL? No. That wouldn't be fair to my ACL to say that. But it's part of the equation, no doubt.
You know how I said I was cool? Call it what you want - tooting my own horn, being self-righteous, blah blah blah. It's not like that. I'm not talking about having a large group of people surround me while I eat my lunch and guffaw over my outfit. (Though that wouldn't hurt anyone's cool factor, I'm sure). I haven't always been cool. But you know what makes me cool now? I'm honest. Honesty is about as cool as one can get if you ask me. And the only cure to the 3 M's is to recognize them, address them, and kindly tell them I'm not interested in any sort of ongoing relationship with them. To ignore them entirely or pretend they don't or didn't exist is BS! I got weird. I admit it. It probably only leaked out toward a few close people in my life, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen. Shame is a pretty debilitating emotion to carry around, and I refuse to let that set me back.
We all have some faces or "M's" that keep us from our best self now and then. Ever seen the movie Identity? Case and point. I got my cool back, my world isn't ending, and I am once again reminded about the effervescent roller coaster that is a mental and physical recovery. While I have every intention of keeping a handle on my cool, chances are, it might take off again in the future. Until then, bid farewell to the Mania, the Moron, and the Masochist. It's just me here, folks. Take it or leave it.