Tag Archives: guilt

Getting My Priorities Right

In the here & now, , ,

time

One of the things I’m really good at is finding stuff that I like to do, and then liberally using the excuse that I’ve been too busy doing that stuff to get to the stuff that I really should do. I’ve never known anyone that can burn time in quite the same way I can, you know? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not wasting time exactly…I’m just not making the most of it. And then I wonder why there’s never enough hours in the day to do the stuff I need to do.

I’m finding it really hard to strike a balance at the moment. I know myself well enough to realise that if I try and put myself on a timetable for my free time, it’ll get the third finger treatment before the ink’s even dry. I don’t like to live on the clock at the weekend, which feels like it should be my time to do what I want and just enjoy it. To be fair it’s the one thing me and the committee inside my head sort of agree on.

It’s a theme though, isn’t it? For those amongst you who know me best, you’ll have twigged some time ago that if something gets my attention, it gets all of it. But getting my attention in the first place might not be easy, and even when I’m across the line it might not last very long, depending on how much I enjoy/need whatever it is we’re talking about. And then there’s the question of whether enjoyment trumps need, in terms of allocation of time. In my book yes, every time. But that’s not necessarily a grown-up thought process, is it?

Let’s take this morning as an example. I woke up about 7.30am. I spent five minutes tickling Charlie-dog’s ears and then, determined to get up and at my day ended up back in bed where I spent the next 90 minutes immersed in my on-line life. Checked in to the blog and answered a few emails, did a bit of site maintenance and had a mooch though the blogosphere.

Once I made it downstairs, I went outside to see how the temperature was coming on in the hot tub, I’ve arranged a chilled out catch up with one of my best friends who’s coming over later so I filled it yesterday and it’s looking good. I got distracted just fannying around in the garden, and burned another half an hour.

I got distracted again in the kitchen, where I read a bit of the paper on-line before wandering back into the blog and kicking around some thoughts about blog posts I’d like to write, and in the meantime ten and eleven o’clock both came and went un-noticed…I was still in pyjamas at this point, and the dog was wearing a resigned look.

As I write this, somewhere along the way I’ve managed to get dressed and eat a late breakfast, but it’s now 1pm, and I’ve burned half a day, essentially doing nothing. I haven’t walked Charlie yet, I haven’t gone anywhere near the pile of stuff I’d planned to get on eBay this morning and as I drifted off to sleep last night I’d decided that was my absolute priority today. Yes, it’s the same pile of stuff I’ve been tripping over since my big wardrobe clear-out what, a month ago? Longer than that I think. They’re in my way, they’re driving me nuts, and yet I can guarantee they’ll still be there on Monday.

I guess where I’m going with this – for those of you who are still awake, and wondering – it’s like all those diets over the years that I meant to get around to starting, but just didn’t quite because something always came along and furnished me with an excuse to put it off for another week. The more I delve into the corners of my head, the more I come to realise that there are certain character traits which sort of underpin who I am, and recognising that explains a lot.

It’s a good thing, as it stands. I makes me less inclined to blame myself, and more likely to understand and be a bit less unforgiving, you know? It doesn’t mean I don’t need a good kick up the bum to get going – clearly I do – but lightening up on the blame lessens the guilt, and without guilt, recriminations lose the power to push you further into that bad place where feeling worthless is the order of the day.

Actually, I feel pretty good today. There’s a shiny new Weight Watchers week with my name on it just waiting to be opened in the morning, and tonight will be fun. Now I’m off to walk the furry one…it’s a beautiful day and it will be good to get moving. Better late than never, right?

Happy Saturday peeps 🙂

 

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The Sorry See-Saw

Freeform thoughts, ,

soz

After I’d written the ‘unsubscribe’ post a couple of days ago, several of you reached out and offered words of reassurance that if people had unsubscribed from our mailing list, it wasn’t because of anything I’d done, or said. And I love that you wanted to reassure me – I promise I get it…really I do. Much as I love to imagine that the world revolves around me, of course I know it doesn’t. On a rational level I can recognise that I was looking for a reason to accept responsibility for someone else’s choices, and even I can appreciate that’s bonkers. And yet. It’s not the first time I’ve done it – and it’s much more likely to happen when I’m fat.

The subscriber list wasn’t a ‘thing’…but it did serve as a classic example of me assuming that someone was leaving town because of something I did. Jumping to the conclusion that I’d done something wrong, that it was somehow my fault. But don’t you think, when your self esteem is quite low, the opinion you have of yourself sort of clouds the way you look at stuff..? Lots of stuff.

Believing that someone has chosen a course of action because of something I’ve done is bad enough. What’s even worse is when something really goes wrong, and I immediately assume that it’s my fault. I’d hazard a guess I’m not the only one who does that too, right? I’m sometimes hit right between the eyes with the need to apologise but to be honest it’s more like a weird kind of reflex, because often I’m not actually sure what I’m apologising for.

The two opposite ends of the apology spectrum seem to be; those people who never say sorry, ever. Even when they’ve got both feet planted firmly in stoopid. Cemented into place, underneath a neon sign flashing the words ‘in the wrong’ but ready to deny it till their last breath. And then there are those people who aren’t in the wrong at all. They are bang on the money but will freely apologise to anyone who’ll listen because somebody, somewhere was in the wrong, and their default setting is to assume that they’re probably it. Normal well-adjusted people sit somewhere in the middle because..well, they’re normal.

Imagine it as a see-saw…where do you sit? Me, I tend to balance somewhere between the middle and the apologetic end. However, not unusually for a fat girl, I dominate the see-saw completely when I’m at my heaviest. Weighing down the apologetic end of the plank, leaving my opposite number high and dry, watching the need to apologise for being in the wrong cascade down the see-saw towards me. They’re happy, I’m happy. They’re absolved from being sorry, because all the sorry’s at my end, with me, even though by rights it should be theirs.

What I should be doing, is a nifty ninja roll off the sorry see-saw. I’m better than that you know? If I screw up, of course the sorry sits with me and it’s a fair cop. But otherwise..? No, you muppet.

And I’ve tried to think of legitimate reasons why I should apologise for the choices I make, that other people don’t like, or approve of. And weirdly, I can’t think of a single reason why I should. If it’s an opinion I have, a turn of phrase that I use or a bit of over-ripe language that pops out to drive home a point, as long as it’s authentic and real, it’s okay. I mean it’s really okay. People who appreciate me would more than likely pick authentic over vanilla every time, at least I think they would.

And if they don’t, well I don’t need to worry about it. Because what I do and say is my responsibility, and my choice to make, and what other people think about it is theirs, right?

Another little bit of the jigsaw just fell into place for me 🙂

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