I spent the day working. The 30 minutes after I closed my work laptop were spent insulting myself: “You worthless monster. You’re dumb. You mean nothing. You deserve nothing more than death.” It’s mind-boggling. I possess these feelings about myself (where I feel that I’m scummy garbage) yet at the same time acknowledge I deliver good results. I recently had my work review/evaluation and received stellar feedback. However, it’s really hard for me to accept any kind of positive reviews/praise about myself because I perceive myself as less than human. I’ve reduced my existence to that of an object (PS. Robotism makes capitalism easier to bear aka productivity is God). I’ve adopted a belief in which while I believe I can produce good work for a company and cause, I don’t perceive myself as a good and worthy human. It’s a belief that has slowly taken over my day-to-day – perhaps because I am so lonely. Lots of people to talk to, not very many deep connections around (only 3). A phone call from a friend, with some pretty alarming, anxiety-inducing news, brought me right back down to Earth.
I then opened my email and came across some Chani Nicholas word magic that made me pause. Ms. Nicholas’ words shared below:
“Capricorn & Capricorn Rising
If the world had its way, I would think I was imperfect, incomplete, and inexplicably flawed. If the world had its way, I would shrink in shame, wither in self-rejection, and collapse under its unjust examination. If the world had its way, I would stay quiet, stay in line, and stay tethered to its expectations of me.
With this New Moon, I promise to not mistake my wildness for an unconscionable flaw, my creative energy for a threat to my well-being, or my desire for a weapon of my own demise. With this New Moon, I will be more mindful of the ways in which I might sell myself short, mistrust my passion, or discredit the sacred act of being playful.
The creative projects that I begin with this New Moon have a mark of disruptive ingenuity within them. I know that their eventual entrance into the world depends on my current ability to care for, protect, and serve them. When I feel like rejecting my best efforts, I’ll remember to rest, ask a trusted friend, set my sights on something inspiring, or find any amount of pleasure that is available. The muses love it when I take a kindness break.
Cancer & Cancer Rising
Admitting loneliness is not only essential in times like these, but revolutionary always. I know that the world doesn’t leave much space for emotional well-being. I know that the world expects me to say “I’m good” whether or not I am. I know that the world is mostly untrained to receive an honest answer, so I begin by receiving my own.
Each time I’m honest about feeling disconnected, untethered, unsure, or insecure, I become a better friend to myself. Each time I can hold my loneliness with compassion, I am less alone in the world. Each time I can be honest with others, I open up space for them to be honest with me.
I know that the shame that often accompanies loneliness can act like a shroud around me, furthering the distance between myself and others. I know that shame will try to convince me that I should never reach out, be honest, or open about what I harbor.
This kind of fearful feedback loop can only be interrupted when I admit what’s underneath it all: I need to love and be loved and that is the most beautiful and human thing about me.”