All my life I’ve been burdened by one particular, terrible problem. It’s silly, really, but as I look back at so many of the decisions I’ve made and the things I’ve done, there is a dark cloud that hangs over everything.
It’s not so much a lack of creativity, although that is one manifestation of this issue. My problem, I think, is that I am, and always have been, terribly concerned of what people might think of me. About anything – from the very important to the ridiculous why-would-anyone-else-give-that-a-second-thought. It hampers my happiness and keeps me from expressing myself and has destroyed my creativity and my ability to truly express myself.
I’m always boxing myself into following my own made up rules about nearly everything. Take this blog, as an example. I originally made it as a bit of a craft log, but I’ve tied myself up over entries wondering if I’m doing it the “right” way by posting several projects at once, or should I do them separately, or if my pictures are good enough, or if my work is good enough, and so on.
I cannot put together an outfit, save for jeans and a t shirt, that I wonder if it matches, if I look silly, if the clothes look too big, or (the worst and most common thought) if I only look like I’m trying to be fashionable, but and really just a big fat poser and everyone who looks at me will think I’m just trying too hard.
I’ve wanted to write a story for years, but I can’t bring myself to put pen to paper, even if my work will never see the light of day. I could make up anything I want, but instead I think, “no, this idea is too far fetched”, “my grammar is too poor”, “this whole idea is ridiculous. x and y would never meet this way”, “this information is not factual, so I cannot use it (despite the numerous and sometimes wonderful alternative history fictions I’ve come across). It’s stupid, really. So with nearly everything, I am stuck just copying what other people do – putting together Frankenstein’s of what I’ve read or heard or seen.
It’s as though I can’t walk my own road, I have to walk one that’s been paved before me. It’s miserable. I don’t know how to stop.