I’m not skinny/pretty/sparkly/sexy/outgoing/adventurous/etc etc etc enough and I’ll never be able to compete with my friends who are skinny/pretty/sparkly/sexy/outgoing/adventurous wah wah wah repeat ad infinitum until I’d quite gladly stick a pair of tweezers into my right ear and pull out my brain.
I need to fucking stop it. It drives me mental; it drives my friends potty as I wang on about it and they tell me otherwise whilst willing me to believe it (but they’re far too nice to tell me that). It puts me on a hiding to nothing and is like being sat in a rocking chair, it keeps me busy BUT I DON’T GET ANYWHERE!
It goes a bit like this: compare compare compare, despair despair despair. Then add in a bit more despair because I’m despairing about comparing myself to those around me when I need to quit it and then I end up in a big soggy heap sobbing like a giant baby with snot pouring out of my nose. On the whole I’m doing a LOT better at not beating myself up but sometimes it comes out of nowhere and before I know it, I think I’m a troll who needs to go and live under a bridge away from the world at large to do them all a favour. This weekend has been particularly bad for it and combined with a poorly nephew in hospital who thankfully is being discharged today, well suffice it to say I feel like I’ve been through the wringer. Eyes like pee holes in the snow, stuffed up schnozz and in need of a cuddle. Bad times dudes, bad times.
Last night I built a duvet fort and snuggled under it to watch a movie, this morning I swung the kettlebell about to get some endorphins going and I’m about to give myself a pedicure – all in an attempt to not be such a whiny little bitch who doesn’t realise what she has going for her or how lucky she is.