
I want to do too much.
I feel like I want to do many different things at every moment and no matter what I pick, I am berating myself for not picking the other thing. No choice can make me happy because I am always NOT attending to something important. Sometimes I gossip to myself about myself and I am not nice.
Of course, this makes me uncomfortable in the present moment. I want to leave this place that is so critical of my choices.
I usually pick something productive yet easy, like doing the dishes, and then I tell myself that when this little chore is done, we will be in better shape to do all the other stuff. I might listen to a podcast so I can’t hear the negativity.
When I am done with that task, I am surprised to find I still feel freaked out about how much stuff needs to get done.
I am telling myself a lie over and over. The lie is this: You will be happy when all the things are done. Do you know what it’s called when all the things are done?
RIP.
I am trying to stop doing this. I am trying to stop trying. I am experimenting with just being in the activity rather than accomplishing the activity. It’s really hard. That gossipy part of myself is always blathering on and distracting us. She is constantly narrating everything, categorizing everything, ranking everything and comparing everything. It’s so hard to shut her up. But if I succeed without the aid of someone else talking, there is a sense of relief.
A sense of just enough.