Recovering From Self-Sabotage

How I stopped being an asshole and fucking myself over.

I’m a recovering self-sabotager — maybe that’s too generous — it might be safer to just say I’m recovering from myself.

Procrastination — check

Over-complicating Life — check

Starting more projects than I capable of finishing — check

I’m pretty sure I have a black belt in self-sabotage. It wasn’t until after I had alienated myself from almost everyone who loved me and spent a few years wallowing in self-pity (and a whole lot of Ben & Jerry’s) that I recognized my self-deprecating patterns. My life had become entirely reactive and I was not only failing at achieving any of the goals I had set for myself — I had entirely stopped setting goals. I was no longer invested in taking action because I was too busy trapped in my tangled thoughts. These thought patterns would just take over and I hadn’t even realized it.

Intellectually I understood self-sabotage — but that did nothing to help overcome my subconscious desire to fuck myself over.

The good news was that my self-sabotaging could be corrected —yay! The bad news is that I already knew it would take a whole lot of work to untangle the two (or five) competing voices in my monkey brain — those assholes were loud and they enunciated E-V-E-R-Y W-O-R-D.

The first thought pattern I knew I needed to tackle was my massively destructive fear of dreaming. It had been a long time since I had allowed myself to even have goals and dreams — somewhere along the way I became convinced that floating through life aimlessly was less painful than failure. I was afraid to even consider the endless possibilities out there — why would the universe have anything good in store for me.

Worse yet — I had convinced my husband that being a “dreamer” was frivolous, irresponsible and immature. I had been projecting my sabotagey-ness all over him and trying to avoid pain on his behalf too — or maybe I’m slightly narcissistic and him not achieving his dreams would have been a blow to my ego too?

Either way — I’m an asshole.

A somewhat self-aware asshole — but still an asshole — and I really didn’t want to be an asshole anymore.

Just Decide That Enough is Enough

I slowly began making different choices — first in my brain and then eventually with my actions. Instead of limiting myself with the belief that dreaming is reckless and a complete waste of time, I re-positioned it as an opportunity to see how different choices would unfold. Now, I’ve realized my dreams have the ability to be my path — as long as I listen and follow through.

So, after years of telling myself and my husband that all dreams were frivolous — I’ve made dreaming part of my daily routine. Every morning I sit down with a blank page and no distractions.

Now that dreaming has become a part of my life again — the thought of tackling my other self-sabotaging patterns and behaviors is much less terrifying.

…now I’m off to dream…


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