Self Esteem is a Sharp Pendulum and I Only Give Credence to a God Complex or Mental Trench Foot

Surely it can’t be just me.

Surely I can’t be the only one who vacillates between these two states, with little to no inbetween. Either I look at myself in the mirror and want to vomit at the sight of my distended, bulging form, like some kind of Lovecraftian horrorterror, or I am the hottest, most beautiful woman alive, and I’m surprised you’re even able to see me right now past the blinding light of my radiant form. It’s exhausting, but almost fun sometimes – keeps me on the edge of my seat.

I don’t know why I’m like this. My life is just dichotomies, and I’m content to live in them – it seems the road less traveled is the road in between. Maybe it’s a symptom of brainrot, that I’m uncomfortable with the idea of nuance, and would much rather pick one or the other. Nice, easy, sortable boxes. The in between takes time and effort to place on a fluctuating scale, able to shift and adjust like a ball in a groan tube. Which is, funnily enough, the sound I make when I think of this, specifically.

Survey says... yes. Yeah you weirdo. You don't need a justification to live.

But why does it feel like that sometimes? And when will it go away?

Will it ever?

A bit of stream of consciousness for a Tuesday night. Maybe my real problem is that I never take these ideas to their conclusion. I just let them disappear because it's easier.

-C

Maybe it’s the type of discomfort? I thrive in off-the-cuff situations, where I can just riff off of other people and bullshit my way through them. There’s a thrill to saying the right thing, reading the right expression, giving my own expression in return. It’s like I have to be told I’m a good boy at every turn, like a dog – like I’ve performed well. These situations are, theoretically, uncomfortable, right? Or is it not uncomfortable, and I’m just making excuses for not being able to face the things that are actually hard for ME, like not equating my self-worth with my job performance, outward appearance, quality of home, salary, ability to be creative, sing well, dance, write, paint, embroider, etc?

I guess that kinda answers it.

I don’t know how to fix that, though. How to become comfortable with separating my self-worth, my… rightness-to-live (rightness being correctness – being allowed, I guess), from everything else. I don’t know what makes me allowed to be here. My community involvement, and how much I do for others? My contribution to society, to my family, to my friends, to my environment? Do I even need to do or be anything to be worthy of existing, does it have to be earned or proven, or can it just be that I have to exist to be worth existing? A therapist shouting from the void would likely say yes, but it’s hard to accept and agree with.

I work through this frequently during my days. Food is either good or bad, no matter how much I logically know that is not the case. I get excited about my job one minute, and dread it the next. Hot/cold, Yes/no, In/out, etc.

Oh my god??? Even as I’m writing this, I’m getting a little bored and sick of it. WHY am I like this. It’s gotta be the brainrot. And I was doing so good, by deleting Tiktok from my phone! I don’t want to get rid of Instagram because I frequently use it to look up what’s happening in Chattanooga, but I’ve been slipping into bad habits by getting into Reels. I don’t even LIKE Reels, and actively clowned on it in the past! Am I so desperate to avoid doing the things that bring me joy, that I’m willing to relapse into stupid endless scrolling? How awful and weak-minded of me. Even Pinterest would be better than this, at least as it is now. Maybe once that OpenAI deal goes through, maybe then I’ll quit, like I did with Tiktok. I use those images for my site, but I’ll go somewhere else if it means not having to contribute to that slop ouroboros.

I think it comes down to a poor tolerance of discomfort. Everyone says “get comfortable being uncomfortable!!”, but at this point it just feels like wearing shoes that are the wrong size. One is a size too big, and the other too small – and it stunts me and becomes my focus. I can’t run in these conditions.