Phase two of the cycle begins: Ira gets his shit together and feels better about life.
I mean, at least these swings are happening faster now, right? Before, it would have been two solid weeks of the “feeling-like-poopy” stage. Now, it’s two days.
See, I had (almost) all of the distractions today with other work that I’ve had all throughout this week. But, this time, I was able to keep enough focus to return to work and get a ton of stuff done. Not quite where I wanted to end the night, but that’s also because I decided to pack it in a little early tonight. I’m writing this before midnight, and I’m going straight to sleep after it’s finished. I felt tired today, more so than usual, and a solid night’s sleep is the cure for that. I’ll probably try and do the same thing tomorrow night…when the Ho will be home! 🙂
Happy days indeed.
I thought a lot today about how much my work, most especially my paid work, really defines my self-worth. My esteem is hugely tied into meeting those work goals, and as a direct result, my mood. I think I’ve always been that way, for the most part. For better or for worse. I’m not sure what I can do to change that, actually.
I feel like I can change how I approach the work, ie- this new way of doing less more often. And, holy jesus, has that been working. It’s not perfect yet, and I doubt it ever will be, but damn. I’ve done more work in the past four months than I’ve ever done. I feel foolish for not having changed my ways earlier in life. But not too foolish. At least I’m doing it now. And, because of it, I’ve come to love my work. Love doing everything that I’m doing, and I do mean everything.
Which is doubly why it’s so frustrating to go through these periodic episodes of laziness and self-sabotage where I get downtrodden because I get torn away or tear myself away from my work. My self esteem suffers big time. I have thoughts like, why am I even doing this? It’s never going to work. I wish I didn’t have those thoughts. Everyone does, I’m sure. So, you know what I’m talking about.
Real-world knowledge about how many people try and fail at making a sustainable career as an artist in any discipline is like a giant boulder being strapped to your back right before being asked to climb that crazy-ass long staircase Po has to climb in Kung Fu Panga. Oh, and you’re even fatter than he is. With crabs on your toes. The pinchy kind from the ocean. Good luck. Which is all to say that it’s debilitating if you try and play a numbers game with yourself. Because in those scenarios, I’m always putting myself in the failure pile, just because those are the overwhelming odds.
And having money, obviously, is important to me. It’s why I get so depressed when I get behind on my editing work. I know that next paycheck is shrinking as a result. It makes me feel like a failure. And, then that bleeds over into my creative life, which is REALLY where all the feelings of failure come from. In terms of outside markers of success, guys, I have nothing. Zilch. Nada. Not a single credit. Never been paid as a professional. That hurts me. It really does. And, I’ll easily confess that fact right up there, the outside validation and lack thereof is precisely why I decided to start writing. Because now, at least, I need only myself to create. And, to be honest, having those pages has been enough. I just know that feeling will only last for so long. I want those pages to LEAD somewhere. And, perhaps, guys, that is the crux of the matter. Why my self esteem flees from me on a whim. Because, I’m still not happy with where I am right now. I want more.
Do I fix that? How?
Tonight, at least, I feel more like myself. Calmer. Focused. Ready to get shit done tomorrow.
I’ll continue to think about these things. I don’t know if I need to forget my ambitions or not. Perhaps I do. Perhaps that’s the lesson I need to learn. Or, perhaps not. Perhaps my lesson here is about not listening to fear, and letting that stand in my way.
Either way, however, my path is still the same. Keep cranking out the pages, and I’ll get there.
Good night guys. Thanks for listening on this hot-ass LA Thursday night. Sleepy times.