Not Good Enough

I have not been in the mood for planting. To tell you the truth, I have not been in the mood for much. I feel … shut down inside. I’m bottling up and when that happens, internal wars begin to wage. I do not like when that happens. I am anxious to shift something. I want a bold move or an epiphany. I want to feel more alive instead of just getting by. I WANT TO FEEL. Except I know there are some painful emotions ahead if I do what I think I need to do. Apparently I don’t want to face them so instead I am numbing out.

I am far too old and too therapized for this. I know better. I need to do better.

I realize some things in my life are not working I’m just not sure where the culprit is. My awareness is heightened but my ability to remedy the problem is lackadaisical. I feel like everything I’ve been writing for months has been crap. Have I lost my voice? Is blogging no longer my medium of expression? Maybe it’s just my disconnect. If I can’t understand my own heart, I can’t write.

I feel afraid to dream of and go after a life I want. I feel limited by what I think is possible. I feel like I found this one true, amazing, wonderful thing and then I grabbed it and planted my feet firmly in the ground in the hopes that I can ward of losing it/changing it/fucking it up. The irony is, by staying stagnant in the fear I will.

Oh silly, silly Sizzle.

I started the year with the intention of practicing the art of letting go. That theme keeps popping up and I keep pushing it back. Sometimes it feels like my life is that whack-a-mole game where I have a big cartoon-y mallet and I’m trying to be so vigilant and on guard so I can whack each new mole that pops up. But I can’t hit them all every time. Maybe I should just watch them pop up with amusement and let the carnival play on behind me?

Blah blah blah. My life is a carnival. My life is a garden. I am full of metaphors. Or shit.

If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to kick my own ass.


25 thoughts on “Not Good Enough

  1. Wow, Ms. Sizzle. Give yourself a break. You haven’t lost your voice at all and your writing isn’t crap.

    I have experienced a similar epiphany to what you’re looking for in the past year. It’s been amazing. It’s been hard.

    Just know that you’re wonderful and I look up to you and hope to have your outlook on life one day. I only know you through blogging, but I consider you and your writing very valuable to my life and to me!

  2. Ugh. Sorry you’re feeling this way. I will say that I love your blog now as much as I ever did and I think even when you’re mired in whatever it is, you express yourself so honestly that you can never lose your voice, not really. Still, I hope you’re able to figure out how to stop feeling like this at some point soon. xoxo.

  3. Well, if what you have been writing is “crap”, I can’t wait to see more of what you write when you’re feeling like it is good. It’s not crap, I am just trying to make that point.

  4. Kick mine while you’re at it. I’m also full of metaphors and shit.

    I love the way you are able to express yourself in your blogging. Even if it’s to talk about what you’re doing wrong. I just can’t seem to get the words out. And then if by some miracle I can, I’m too scared to hit publish.

    Life is full of suck lately.

  5. No one said this moving forward thing, this progress thing would always be easy. I agree with WG above – give yourself a break. Give yourself room to grow. Trust yourself to change. I’m quite certain you’ll figure out a way to push beyond this stagnation to find the rainbows and pots of gold and unicorns.

  6. Yes, kick your own ass when you feel it’s necessary. Of course we could all use this at times. But, girl, don’t forget to give yourself a damn break when it’s necessary, too. That is both regaining control AND letting go at once. And you have every reason and right to do it.
    I also find it helps to scream a little, too. Just for some added cathartic effect.


  7. I’m not even sure how to respond, but consider this a virtual hug and unsolicited advice. Things have to go back up again–that’s just the way life works. I read this recently (again; I’m restudying my yamas): “Sustaining hopefulness, even when there are few signs that things will improve, is one very good way of fostering contentment.” Be at peace with whatever stage of growth or circumstance you’re at (easier said than done, I know). That’s my natural coping mechanism–being hopelessly hopeful and ridiculously optimistic, but it really keeps me going and creates some level of contentment (*not complacency*). Remember that when something challenges us and/or makes us uncomfortable–our way of thinking, living, being, our attitudes–or, hell, a new yoga pose–it means we’re growing. Keep pushing forward, Sizzle; you will be an even stronger, even wiser woman at the end. xo

  8. Here’s what I know: your writing in the last few months has made me believe in possibility, in happiness, and in realistic love, the kind of love where things aren’t perfect but your love for that person *is*. So you grow together, learn together, and tackle the hard stuff together. You have also inspired me to be a better friend and make my world a more beautiful place. You’ve helped me with motivation and just by making me laugh when I was very sad. You’ve been supportive and kind and honest. I’m so sad you are feeling like this right now but I think it’s good you are giving words to these feelings and acknowledging them. I wish I could make you feel better. Just know you are very special.

  9. If there is one door in the castle
    you have been told not to go through, you must.
    Otherwise you’ll just be arranging furniture
    in rooms you’ve already been in.

    Anne Lamott


  10. If TV has taught me anything, it’s that there are sometimes valuable lessons found on TV. From the creators of LOST I give you the following advice based on the show’s finale:

    Let go.

    Move on.

    I could elaborate, but that would take away the simple elegance of this advice. 🙂

  11. Oh, darling – do be kind to yourself. We’re all cheering you on from the sidelines and your voice is as authentic and true as ever.


  12. I, for one, think that you are doing a great job of living life and moving forward. Sometimes we just move slower…and sometimes faster.

  13. Oh, Durango! You will find your mojo again, I just know it. In the meantime, consider yourself being hugged from Portland right now. Probably by quite a few PDX-ers, as it were, but most definitely from me.

    (LOVE Anne Lamott, and therefore, Jenny 2 Times’ comment, and in the spirit of quotes that inspire and move and make us feel, I’m going to share one of my favorites, too.)

    “For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.” -T.S. Eliot, from Four Quartets

  14. I could say many things about this, and probably will at some point but for now, know that you are loved and that if you don’t know what to do, don’t do anything and the way will become clear.

    Of course if you know what to do and are just putting it off, well, I think you know that the risk is always commensurate with the gain.

    Crap, that was serious. The fuck with me?

  15. “I know better. I need to do better.” is kind of my mantra right now. It’s one thing to acknowledge that things aren’t quite right, it’s a completely different thing to actually do something about it.
    I’m cheering you on, lady.

  16. Get thee to a yoga class, stat! I find it almost impossible to not let go there. It helps me get out of my head and opens my heart. xo

  17. I was doing ok until I read everyone’s comments and now I’m feeling weepy.

    This – “I am far too old…for this” – hits home so often. Life only seems to go faster with each year. It’s just too damn short to NOT let (things) go. I don’t want to get swallowed by the crap and I want to enjoy the good.

  18. Oh Sizzle. Silly, silly Sizzle. Here’s the thing: I think you’re uncomfortable because you are in the middle of change. You’re feeling things you didn’t even know you could feel, and in order to feel those things, you have to process some of the crap (I mean that with love) you’ve been carrying around for years.

    You want to love completely and be loved completely? You have to let go – and I mean really let go – of those beliefs that you aren’t lovable exactly as you are. Especially when dealing with a man.

    This might seem a little harsh, particularly since I’ve never actually met you, but if you are going to get on with things and let your life develop and evolve further, you have to let some of your father crap go. Your father did the best he could. His best just wasn’t very good. But that has to do with him, not you. You didn’t break your father; you couldn’t fix him either. Everything is not in your control. Everything is not your responsibility.

    You are on the precipice of having, being what you’ve already dreamed of and what you really want. Is that scary? Um. Yes. You have to trust yourself and trust Mr. Darcy. Complete trust. No second guessing. No back up plans.

    Is it easy? No. Does it feel uncomfortable and make you anxious? Yes. And that is ok.

    And your writing, btw, is as good as ever. What you’re noticing is the lack of bitter sarcasm. Gives it a different tone. Not bad. Different.

    Keep breathing. Go through the fear. Remember to laugh.

  19. do i need to come over there and kick thee in the arse? because i will!

    just know, you are loved by many, by all and by people you have no clue of.

    and yes, i just ended a sentence with a proposition.

  20. It isn;t uncommon to feel numb or tuned-out when you are facing some invisible psychological factors that haven’t worked themselves upward yet. You don;t have to see it, to know you have a splinter in your finger. You have to be patient, and soak it, and let people give you some sympathy– and before you know it? The splinter will appear. Then, people can help you pull it out. It may be bigger than you thought.

    It helps if you look at this stuff as sort of a medical process of something being wrong. You are healing, and taking good medicine and vitamin therapy– but you still are cultivating that garden of your’s. You want to be good soil to live in. Any plants that are there are indeed being tended… and you need to try to just enjoy the fact, they are in there, and growing all the time. Sometimes it seems a very slow process, but you are doing Okay.

    I don’t know if the answer is to Let Go, but rather, to have faith in yourself and in the goodness which you live. You don’t have to make plants grow– they do it all on their own, with gentle sunshine. All you need do is not pull it up by the roots. You ARE Good. You ARE Okay.

    Sometimes I get afraid of good things happening, too. I get afraid of bad luck, or screwing it up or retribution… and I know that fear is mine. I just have to watch not to make it reality. That sort of fear, it tends to be self-destructive.:-/ When you believe bad stuff about yourself, having it confirmed by people you really really love? It plagues you. (When you find a solution for that garden-beetle, let me know!)

  21. I don’t understand why you say your writing is crap. Maybe because of how you feel.

    I know that when I start feeling closed off, the LAST thing I need to do is pull away more. Now wouldn’t be a good time to stop blogging. Write all of this stuff down. It may help you come up with a solution.

  22. Hey, the first step is realizing you want to make a move, right? See – progress already.

    Your writing is always great. And I think you’ve done a lot more than you’re giving yourself credit for.

  23. I know I’m late (what’s new?), but I had to say that I love and appreciate this post so much. So much growth. You sound like you’re in labor. Or maybe like you’re the thing that is being born. Either way, your honesty helps me (and clearly others), and I know you’re finding your way. Even as you write all this.

  24. I realize I’m reading this a million years late, so I’m hoping you’re head is better, but for what it’s worth I love your writing. It’s so honest, and that’s what I seek from blogging. Don’t be too hard on yourself — but don’t give up doing this kind of blogging. If blogging is to you what it is to me, it’s therapeutic for the soul.

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