This Message will Self-Destruct…
by Kym on March 8, 2010
I first became aware of my self-destructive nature when I was eighteen years old. It was 1996, my first year of university, and the first time that I truly felt the full weight of my agency – my ability to choose. I was living in the attic of my Grandma’s house. A huge, sprawling room with worn, musty smelling carpeting and a windowseat that looked out over the back garden and the park beyond.
Despite all the space and the heady newness of life there in that place, I think my favourite thing was catching the bus. I would hike the six blocks to the bus stop, reveling in the feeling of being self-propelled. Each step was like a revelation. You are doing this, and only you. You don’t have to take the next step. You didn’t even have to wake up this morning. The bed is unmade in the room you have left behind you and no one will care.
It was also an anxious time of course, and I am nothing if not prone to anxiety. I would arrive at the bus stop twenty minutes early each morning, shivering in the slick wet of the rain and the fog. I was full of fear and the sudden transition from high school teacher’s pet to anonymous face in a crowd was a difficult, even galling experience. Freedom wasn’t quite so sweet once I realized that mostly I was free to feel insignificant and foolish on a daily basis.
And then I discovered the computer lab in the basement of the library. Flickering fluorescent lights and the hum of a hundred machines whirring away. I discovered the internet and I soon lost myself in it. There, I could feel clever. There I could feel that I mattered. I threw myself into roleplaying games. Made friends. Was greeted with lines of text shouting glee and excitement every time I arrived. I fell in love, or thought I did, with a man who lived a full country and a sea away from me.
It wasn’t long before I started skipping classes. Started failing classes. I was in self-destruct mode and I had never been there before. Had no idea how to escape. Had no idea how to WANT to escape. My parents finally intervened. I moved back home and transferred to a community college and started over again. So much wasted time. But I flourished there. Made choices that were terrifying but right (and learned that the two are NOT mutually exclusive).
Since that crazy, shaming, painful time in my life I’ve done better at recognizing my self-destructive patterns. Some are easily changed. A brief ah-ha moment followed by a quick change. Some are so deeply ingrained that it is the work of years, if not a lifetime, to rectify them. Like my social patterns. The way I hide myself away and avoid people and then whine and mope that I have no close friends here. Like my eating patterns. How I keep turning back to the junky foods that send my moods spiralling out of control, decimate my self-respect, and drain my energy till I am left listless and apathetic. Like the way I sometimes sit here and despair over the clutter and chaos in my home and choose to spend my time fretting instead of DOING.
Today, I’m pulling myself up short, because I have the freedom, the choice, and the responsibility to do so. And the clarity. That bittersweet gift that allows me to look at my life and really SEE. I can see how I am hurting myself. How I am scratching a thick, deep line through my own hopes. Every day there is something I do that I should not. Something I eat, something I say, something I think or do or do not.
Just because it will take a lifetime or more to realize the hopes I have for myself does not mean I should’t hope them. Doesn’t mean that self-destruct has to be my path.
20 comments
Sometimes self destruct seems so much easier! But then I realize that it isn’t just me I am self destructing anymore. I have a husband and children depending on me, and when I go all self destructy it is really them I am hurting.
by Heffalump on March 8, 2010 at 1:18 pm. #
I am generally pretty introspective. It sounds like you are too. I know if my behavior isn’t healthy and I want to do something about it.
by Kristina P. on March 8, 2010 at 1:41 pm. #
It’s a long, uphill road, isn’t it? Constructive choices build, though, however slowly. You have made serious, measurable progress in the time I’ve known you; I hope I have, too.
by Luisa Perkins on March 8, 2010 at 2:10 pm. #
We all have a self-destructive part to ourselves. I commend your honesty (again) in this post, and think it is so much easier than we realize to get caught in a current that gets us off track before we realize it. Starting over is part of what the atonement offers us.
by Kazzy on March 8, 2010 at 3:36 pm. #
I think everyone is self destructive in their own way…but very few have the wisdom and strength to admit it. Right now I need to stop letting my sweet tooth be in control. Your post is inspiring to me, hopefully I will be able to get back on a healthy eating track.
by Jaina on March 8, 2010 at 3:43 pm. #
Your clarity and will amaze me. I’m so glad that you know what you want and even though I believe you’re a little tough on yourself (okay, a lot tough) I’m proud of you for endeavoring every day to do better.
by L.T. Elliot on March 8, 2010 at 3:53 pm. #
Isn’t life difficult sometime? We might be able to see what we are doing to ourselves, but actually making the change can seem so impossible. I think one of the hardest parts is trying not to berate ourselves, but to look at the positive and think, “tomorrow will be better.” Good luck to you!
by Erin on March 8, 2010 at 4:23 pm. #
*HUGS* I really, really loved this post.
by elizabethsheryl on March 8, 2010 at 8:12 pm. #
I think my self-destruct has a superstitious bent. It didn’t used to, but it’s evolved over the years – a sort of “adversity won’t visit me if I’m just floating along” kind of thing. Completely backwards thinking, but there it is.
by Mrs. Organic on March 8, 2010 at 8:14 pm. #
There are a lot of blogs that I read because I thoroughly enjoy the content or really appreciate a particular blogger’s unique perspective. Though I have had both of those thoughts about your blog, what I keep thinking after every post (well, not the food lists!) that you leave for us is this: She can really write. Really, really, write. And if I’m being honest, I can’t say that about very many blogs that I read. So good job. And great post.
by InkMom on March 8, 2010 at 8:16 pm. #
Oh, my dear Kim. You are too hard on yourself.
There will be ups, and there will be downs. I believe that those of us who really, truly care so deeply about love and life sometimes suffer needlessly because we can’t make everything perfect. We can’t do everything 100% and it upsets us that we make mistakes. In trying to do our best, at times the strain catches up with us and we trip. That’s part of life. The only thing we can keep doing is pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off and trudge on.
You do it so beautifully.
by Rebecca on March 8, 2010 at 8:53 pm. #
Yes, isn’t it terrible that we have to keep putting ourselves back on track. One of my least favorite ideas is that if we are truly repentant we won’t commit the same sin again. Of course I’m not really talking about sins, but mistakes or weaknesses. It’s a struggle, but I love how we are blessed every time we do it. And there will come a day when we WON’T make those mistakes anymore. Can’t wait for that, and I hope I’m worthy!
by LisAway on March 9, 2010 at 3:51 am. #
Oh, Kim. I KNOW exactly what you mean. Moaning and griping about having a messy home, how much weight I have gained, and how I don’t have any time is not productive. Choosing to change these things IS productive.
Seriously, could you come give my brain a tune up? I think it needs it. Thanks!
by Amber on March 9, 2010 at 6:51 am. #
Oh, how this makes me cry.
I, too, felt terribly insignificant in college. I felt a fool on a daily basis. But I toed the line, nearly perfectly through it all. Not missing one class, not missing one assignment, but not having any friends for 4 years of college. Not even really one friend, one true someone through it all, unless you count my older sister.
How I wish we could’ve somehow met at the bus stop one day and became friends and helped each other sooner in writing, in sisterhood, and in life.
I love your honesty here, “I can see how I am hurting myself. How I am scratching a thick, deep line through my own hopes.”
I feel that way with my household duties & writing right now. How they swing out of balance and I hate myself for my dirty floors & walls & bathrooms. But then do nothing to change it but try and write/blog/read more. And still, I don’t feel most days or weeks or months that I’m ever getting anywhere significant. It’s hideous, really. A cycle, a trap, a joyless cave.
I hope, despite our errors, to keep moving towards the light, the good, the joy that there is still (however dim some days). I love you.
by Terresa Wellborn on March 9, 2010 at 10:58 am. #
I love this post. I love that you recognize that you have a choice, and that you are willing to take responsibility for those choices. I am glad that you find the positive, too. Neat stuff!
by Kenzie on March 9, 2010 at 1:34 pm. #
I rarely have a chance to put my thoughts into a comment, but you always make me think and help me grow every time you post. You, my friend, have been rocking the blogging world lately and making it a better place. Thank you for that, and thank you for being willing to share your heart with us day after day.
Now to attend to a toddler who is tossing his rubber ducky tub across the living room in order to get his mama’s attention…..(I do owe him after the horrific haircut I gave him yesterday.)
by Sara/ Inkling on March 9, 2010 at 5:08 pm. #
Wonderful, as always. I am constantly amazed at the new-and-improved Kim and what she went through to be where she is now.
by charrette on March 9, 2010 at 7:26 pm. #
brilliant and insightful and so very you. i especially admire how you pair introspection with change; so many of us stop at the first, never realizing that awareness is only the beginning of the equation. i applaud you and hope alongside you, my friend.
by nic on March 10, 2010 at 5:45 am. #
I think we all do things each day that are self destructive. It is the human in us. I try to focus on what I did right each day. I have a checklist and though I never check off everything on the list (such as “eat right” “make my bed” “perform an act of service”) I do enough that it makes me feel good about what I am accomplishing. If the police could give everyone a shiny dime every time they obey the speed limit instead of a ticket every time they don’t, there would be no speeding. None. In short, rewarding good behavior is WAY more effective than coming down on bad behavior. You are a wonderful, intelligent, strong, talented person who is probably way better than she thinks she is. Love you!
by Heidi Ashworth on March 10, 2010 at 8:50 pm. #
Everything you said here is so worth saying but I’m going to hone in on the food habit you talked about. This craving for things that totally wreck your mood and eating it anyway. I’ve always linked junk food to guilty pleasure and enjoying the way it gives me a little spike in my mood. But I had a couple of rough days this week after the baby was born, full of crushing anxiety (not at all normal for me) and I discovered something interesting. I dug into a bag of chocolate mini donuts and felt worse. I followed it up with some good-for-me food and I felt better. I’d always heard about that link but never believed in it. I wonder if it will help with losing the baby weight this time.
by Melanie J on March 12, 2010 at 8:34 pm. #