Victimized By My Own Falsehood

Are you done yet Laney? Are you done lying to yourself? Are you done hiding in your room and in your bed? Are you done telling yourself that everyone else can amount to something, but not you? Why are they the exception? Why can’t I be? Why can’t I have the things that I have always wanted and the things that I have always known that I have wanted? I lie to myself everyday. I’m not pretty enough. I’m not skinny enough. I have a mental illness that will hold me back. I will never be what I want to be. The odds will never be in my favor. Why do I continue to fill my own head with lies? Lies that are coming from my own mind! Where did I learn this? How do I unlearn this? What would Scully do? What would Laney do? Good question. What would she do? Hide in her room, watching television shows that she wishes she was on, while eating a pint of ice cream from the comfort of her own bed. Sitting there like a blob, thinking of how wonderful it would be to be the one from the other side. The one giving the entertainment and not taking it. What is stopping me? Why do I think myself to be so worthless? Why must I continue to play victim with myself? Why don’t I deserve what I want in life? Why don’t I deserve the career I want? Why don’t I deserve love? Why are the rest worthy of these things but not me? Do I really think that these people, these actors were just handed these things? Do I really believe they are beautiful and flawless just by chance? That their jobs chose them? How do I stop the negative self talk? Where did it come from? How do I find it? If I find where it came from then maybe I can search and destroy. Attack it from the source. Sure I have ideas and theories, but have I even began to challenge them? That’s it. Where’s the challenge in my life? I’m so afraid of failing, but I’m also afraid of succeeding. So naturally I do neither. I stay in limbo. Never succeeding, never failing. Sitting comfortably with the things I have always protected myself with, even as a child. A movie I can fall asleep to, and then only dream of being the one in it. My bed. Safe under the covers where life can’t get to me. Where failure can’t get to me. Where success can’t get to me. Where change itself cannot get to me. I think my way into a whirlwind thoughts. They spin me around time and time again. Every once in a while they trick me into thinking I’m finally going to take the plunge. But do I ever take action? Maybe I say I’m going to do something, and then fantasize about it. And that’s the extent of it. It excites me enough where I get some sort of fix. Thinking of it, then maybe believing it for a single moment, and then just like it came, it goes out like a light. A zap in my brain. And I’m back to thinking about the doubts, the excuses, the voices of others directing my mind elsewhere. I don’t believe everything I hear. In fact I’m quite a sceptic. But when someone tells me that I won’t amount to anything, I believe them. Where does my scepticism go when those people and myself are flooding my mind with falsehoods? I suppose sceptics choose their battles. Sometimes it applies, sometimes not at all. It applies when it has to do with ourselves. After all, we are after all our own greatest enemy. How is it that we can tell someone they are capable of the world, but when it comes time to tell ourselves even a fraction of that, we cannot even begin to believe it? Is ego something we are born with? Why are some of us born without it? Natural selection perhaps? What happens when you’re the one born without it? Whatever ego I had, its gone. It died slowly, in my own arms. I watched it leave. I watched it vanish like vapor, some here, some there. Every now and then there is a spark of it in my head, but just like a thin white line on a mirror, it’s there at one moment, and then gone the next, leaving behind only my own reflection. A reflection that doesn’t speak to me the way that it should. That reflection brings it all back. The pain. The failure. The loss. The voices telling me that I can’t. That I won’t. The voices asking me how. How in hell will it be you? Of all of the people in this life, in your life, how are you the one meant to succeed? Why would you be the one to make it? Says who? How are you not going to end up like your worst fears? Why on this damned earth would you be the exception?