Monday 30 January 2012

My Hot Thought.

Have you ever felt your brain self-destruct? Have you wondered why you jump to certain negative conclusions straight away? Maybe you have a hot thought. Have a look online for Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, or try this MoodGYM link.

That bastard reared its ugly head.
A chain reaction had sped its way through my brain, flashing through a set of circumstances where I berate myself for not being X enough, not being Y enough, it's my fault this and that for the way I've made myself.

The thought that has ruled me for longer than I know. The driving power behind every self-destructive notion, word and thing I've thought, said and done, comes down to a single concept. It's dictated my actions for years. It's formed my sentences, made my decisions, pushed me in directions, ruined my opportunities, and generally fucked with my life.

It's a hot thought. It sears through your brain. You can almost smell the charred flesh from where it's branded your skin. Its scars are everywhere.

My hot thought is:
"I am not good enough".

My thought gets everywhere before me. It identifies and turns down opportunities before I even see them. It fucks my head up, it makes other peoples' innocuous actions entirely deliberate and hateful. It taunts me when I bother to try, and it nails me down before I can even start.

In the hardest of times, there's nothing bigger. It's right, I concede. I'm not good enough, why do I bother continuing to live?

In the times where I have leeway, and I can exercise my mind a bit, I can fight back. "Sez who?" I mumble. "What's your proof anyway?"

Sometimes that's enough to get a toehold back. The hot thought's just hot air. I was afraid of getting burnt by the steam, and the heat, but it's got no substance behind it.

My toehold gives me that speck of upward strength. Sometimes I can fire off a counter-attack. "I worked hard on something and they said I did a great job!" I say, "that's even better than good enough!".

That toehold of logic is enough. I build on it day by day. I chart the wins. I rationalise the shit. I lay down proof, gradually, slowly that I am good enough.

I visualise a steamroller of achievements knocking it to the ground, killing it dead. One day that fucker's going to lie down and shut the fuck up, forever.


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