Yesterday, I analysed my own behaviour carefully, as I passed judgement on all those around me.
Everyone seemed so competent and able. Well, they weren’t the ones who couldn’t look people in the eye when they were younger, were they? So why shouldn’t they be able?
They weren’t the ones who were ashamed of who they were. They might have felt inadequate at some point in their childhoods, but not EVERY single moment of EVERY day.
So, it seemed unfair that I was comparing myself to them. So I checked my behaviour and instead accepted that I cannot be these people because my experience is different.
Thus, as the Great Black Cloud of Doubt descended upon me; on the contrary I was seeing quite clearly.
For who should be the one sitting and judging me but my own self? Realising that my failure to compete on levels far above me are so far beyond my control that I NEED TO FORGIVE MYSELF.
Only then can I move on. And if we keep comparing ourselves to others, the measure by which we are analysing is too skewed in their favour. It always will be.
And so, on this day, I lay in bed as I am typing this, and Mr Anxiety is sat on one corner, hunched, his jagged spine protruding from his old and sinewy back. And for once: he sure looks tired.
As the Black Cloud lifts ever so slightly I can finally see a reflection of myself.
‘Forgive me,’ It begs. ‘Please.’