Make Your Peace With Being Crap
And Other Nonsensical Pieces Of Advice
You can never do well. You can’t change anything. You should go upstairs, lay down in your bed, and cry full-hearted sobs into your pillow.
You know everything you want to do? It has been done better by someone else, so why bother?
Yeah — fuck that shit. Please stop leaking your insecurities over other people. I’m not saying I don’t have them, but the only thing worse than an enforced group hug is this collective moping together. It really brings me down sometimes — I have a hard enough time getting over the speed bumps of my own inadequacies, without being deluged by the implication that this is all fated, and that in essence everyone is actually pretty terrible at everything, and that the human race is in an existential abyss that they are ill-equipped to climb out of.
If I started to believe this defeatist crap I would probably be swinging from my tie in the back room — and look, if I have put on a tie to kill myself you know I’m fucking desperate. I hate ties.
The whole talk about generation after generation being a bunch of losers has done nothing but make people feel like losers, even if they’re winning. Imposter Syndrome is prevalent amongst really smart people who should actually be able to take some satisfaction in how well they are doing, but instead cave-in to insecurities as soon as they close the door behind them and retreat into their diminishing personal space. And even there the streams of negative bullshit don’t stop, as you get social media sending you an endless barrage of links to articles telling you how surrender is the best way to avoid feeling bad — it isn’t; start surrendering and it only gets worse. That steady decline will pick up its pace.
I’m not meaning to be insensitive, but this environment where you feel sad about how bad everything is and people just commiserate with you instead of trying to lift you up, just isn’t for me. I have to wrestle my way out of those situations, because if I go there I start to dead-end emotionally, psychologically, spiritually, and creatively. It is a cul-de-sac kind of death, but you are still alive if barely kicking.
I used to hate self-help books — I used to hate motivational speakers. I am still not super into that kind of thing, but you know what? If it gets you to stand up and brush off the Cheeto dust and put down the Playstation Controller it’s all good. I don’t have a games system because I get sucked into that shit and don’t do anything — Tetris was like crack to me, and Tekken as well. I would be a crap, do-nothing deadbeat if I had that stuff around me. OK — we have a Playstation 4 in the apartment, but it is my girl’s and I leave it alone, apart from watching Amazon and Netflix through it; and all the time I am doing that I am generally writing and reading and researching. The only way to keep my mental hard drive spinning, and to not feel hollow and empty while it is doing it, is to give it fuel and keep my brain fed. I feed it more, and I churn out more writing.
I have these feelings — I do. I vacillate between introversion and extroversion, but in both states I work damned hard to get stuff done. Good for you, I hear you say — glad you aren’t crushed or defeated by life, like me. I have to make a decision not to be. I’m going to go down fighting — and while I may take a few blows to my ego right on the chin, when it gets down to me being backed into that corner and told to give up, there is something in me that says this is the point beyond which I will not be pushed. And then I push back.
You aren’t crap — you’ve just been told you are. And then all the defeated people who were also told they were crap started to accept that being crap was OK, because trying and being defeated got to painful. I understand. But just by the very fact that they are trying to tell you that you are a good person, even if you are crap, means that they aren’t crap. Don’t make peace with something that isn’t true — you’re smarter than that. You really are.