Out of my way

It’s not even 5 am and I’ve been up over an hour, stressing about, working on, my presentation today. These things don’t come easy for me–I’ve been doing presentations to rooms full of hyper critical people for over 20 years and it’s never been easy for me.  I tell myself I don’t think well or speak well spontaneously. I’m not naturally cute or funny or interesting. I’m shy and quiet and thoughtful, not playful or clever or authoritative. I was told when I was a kid not too take up too much space, not to be too obvious or loud, not to call attention to myself, not to get too big for my britches. And those messages are hard wired. Not easy to get past that. It takes a lot of energy to get past that.

So I woke up before 3, stayed in bed as long as possible, got up before 4. Wrote some stuff out. Tried to prepare and envision myself doing well. I’ve prayed: Help me. Help me let go of the fear. Let go of my need to appear to have it all together and all under control to always have to say the absolute right thing. Help me to have fun. Help me to see the people around the table as friends rather than enemies, as people who want to hear from me, rather than people who want to kill me. Thinking about that Marianne Williamson quote which Nelson Mandela made famous in a speech in 94 I think: “Our playing small does not serve the world.” It doesn’t serve me, it doesn’t serve anyone. I want to take that into my gut where all the fear and holding back sit. I want to knock all that playing small shit inside me on its ass, I want to tell it to get the hell out of my way. Once and for all. Or at least for today.

And now I’m tired, of course. Now when’s it’s almost time to get going, go work out, get to work early, I’m ready to go back to sleep. Insomnia is a bitch.

Self-help is no help.

Mark 8:34-37

34 He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.
35 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.
36 For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?
37 Indeed, what can they give in return for their life?

Lectionary Proper 19, September 13, 2009

I woke up this morning, as I always do, feeling like I might die if I didn’t eat something right away. I went to bed tonight feeling like I wanted to die from the shame and humiliation I felt today at work. I couldn’t sleep so I’m up again, writing, trying to chase away the demons.

At work we’re in the middle of coming up with new campaigns for brand S. We had a work-in-progress on Friday and the 3 campaigns I’d worked on got a pretty positive response from my boss and the two account and planning folks in the room. Two of them were fairly edgy campaigns, but there was safer stuff in the room so having the edgy stuff was fine– we want to show the client a broad range of work.  But that was Friday. Today for the final review before the client presentation on Thursday there were more account and planning folks in the room, none of whom are in the target audience, I might add. But they hated all three campaigns I worked on and the creative director ended up killing two of them and letting a third live, just because he said that he needs more stuff in the room. A winning vote of confidence. Of course the campaign he kept in he felt needed work, a different visual look, in many ways, a restart. None of which he said or seemed to feel on Friday.

Anyway, I was feeling good on Friday, happy because I had “approval,” but all that is gone today. The approval and the happiness. All that’s left is this feeling of shame, this reconfirmation that I’m not good enough, that I’m just a hack, that I shouldn’t be respected, that I have nothing of value to contribute. And I hate myself for that. I feel like I could die of embarrassment, I feel like I don’t really want to do this anymore. I want to run away and hide. I want to be gone. I want to kill myself.

I’ve been killing myself with food lately. Eating crap–tons of sugar and chips and bread. Stuffing myself. I could just be eating all the time…feel like I practically am. And I’m gaining weight. I can feel it in my clothes. More reasons to hate myself. Feel deep shame. Crushing sadness and loneliness and loss.

I read the scripture passage for the week and I’ve got to say, I hate this one. It just sounds, on first reading,  like I’m being yelled at for not doing enough . I’m not giving up enough. Not denying myself enough. It’s all my fault and I suck. That’s what I hear in this.

But I looked at it in The Message translation and it feels a little better to me.  ”Anyone who intends to come with me has to let me lead. You’re not in the driver’s seat; I am. Don’t run from suffering; embrace it. Follow me and I’ll show you how. Self-help is no help at all. Self-sacrifice is the way, my way, to saving yourself, your true self. What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you? What could you ever trade your soul for?

I would like to save my true self, whoever the hell that is. I would like to let go. I get it that I can’t help myself. So all I can say right now is Help me. Help me.