The other day, I was visiting my darling and his parents, and I discovered for the first time the SNL skit "Cooking with The Anal-Retentive Chef" with Phil Hartman.
Very funny.
Not really what this particular entry is about, but it does lead into what I'm grappling with, personality-wise, with myself. I like to have these little sessions where I'm just thinking to myself. It helps me clear my cluttered head.
So.
Many.
Irrational.
Thoughts.
But that's what panicking and anal-retentiveness does to a person. Not that I'm an extreme case of anal-retentiveness, but I must confess that I am a pretty awful perfectionist. Which is enough to drive a person out of their skin, sometimes. Being somewhat anal-retentive and perfectionist tends to make me a tad on the controlling side. Not that I'm manipulative, but I'm accustomed to being in control. If something's going to work, I'm going to make it work, because I am in control.
There's nothing that quite states being out of control like saying to yourself "I am in control".
Because, really, if you were in total control, you wouldn't have to convince yourself that you're in control. So, by saying it, does that really help? Or does it just perpetuate the kind of delusion that one has when they think they're in control? I tend to think it's the latter.
Because, really, there are few things we have control over- and the things we do have the power to master are very rarely things that we freak out about having control over, right?
I mean, you know you can do it, no worries, no stress; so, there's no reason to repeat I am in control like some kind of person obsessed with driving safety.
So, whenever I catch myself wrangling with feeling the need to be in control, I get a flood of thoughts that I must sort out... which is what I'm doing right now.
And I'll tell you why- although, even as I write, the anxiety of control is already dissipating, but I digress...
I'm acclimated towards dominating challenging situations. Except recently, as in the last 6 months when I have felt overwhelmingly like a failure. I quit two jobs, my relationship crumbled, friendships soured- and possibly expired-, moving back in with my parents was no triumphant feat either (although I love them), and my love for adventure dwindled.
I'm beginning to see the rekindling of a life I want to participate in, and I begin to feel it's warmth.
But for several months, I have felt powerless and in a kind of stupefaction that goes beyond depression and rules in the flat grey world of apathy. It's a nasty place. It doesn't even have the decency to shroud itself in a kind of dignified darkness. It's featureless, abandoned, tasteless void. And I hate that place more than I hate having depression, or any other anxiety; this realm is the doldrums of the soul.
And I'm pulling through to the other side. But it's taking a long while.
In the mean time- because the landscape of my mind is frighteningly blank, I feel this encroaching, unseen doom (even though this is completely irrational), because things are quiet... too quiet. Like the moment in a horror film before something terrifying happens when everyone holds their breath.
And I guess that's what it is, I've been holding my breath for ages, and I feel the suffocating effects. And why have I been metaphorically holding my breath?
Because I want to survive, and I feel like that's the best way for me to do it.
ANYWAY-
Back to the control thing- this sort of loosely ties into it, but I don't really care at this point because it's kind of late and I'm exhausted.
BUT-
I'm not a controlling person. I don't seek power, I don't want people to do everything I want, but I do want things to work out. So, in my insane little way, I think that I can will things to work, in what I deem a favorable way. So, I try to control things. Because I want it to work out perfectly. Anal-retentive.
But what happens when things work out pretty much perfectly and you're NOT controlling anything? It takes away a sense of pride of accomplishment, is what it feels like. I feel totally out of place when things go well from no direct effort of my own. It feels so weird to have things go in a positive direction without feeling like I'm forcing gigantic magnets of matching polarities towards each other.
To be more specific, it doesn't feel just "weird" it gives me anxiety. A lot of things give me anxiety, I'm kind of an anxious person if I'm not careful and don't CONTROL IT.
God.
Damn.
I can't get away from it!
It's like a never ending loop.
Anyway- things are going really well. I need a job, but my tax returns were pretty sweet this year, so I'm not as stressed out about it as I was.
But life is pleasant. It's good, it tastes of honey and music. Which is NOT what I'm used to. I'm used to striving for a foot hold in the edge of a cliff. And lately, I have been spoiled with what feels like a magical elevator in comparison. So easy. Too easy.
I just MUST learn how to relax. I'm getting better at it.
But I'm trying really hard not to stress out about relaxing more.
Gotta let go of the control and the stress. I need to just accept the good things and be grateful.
Sleepy, incoherent, chasing-my-own-tail ridiculous me.
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