B Is For Bad Blogger
I’m a bad blogger.
I felt like a broken record last week, I didn’t want to write about how down I felt or moments of achievements. I kind of wanted to stop writing stuff and do them.
And … I did.
This summer has been full of risks: Filming the documentary, going to hen parties, showing my arms at the wedding (I still can’t believe I actually did that). I didn’t know these things were going to go well, and I still don’t know how the documentary will turn out, but I took the chance in doing them because I know I’d regret it if I didn’t.
A couple of weeks ago I came to the frightening conclusion that in order to move forward, I’m going to have to do a lot of things I really don’t want to do. I knew this deep down, but I was kind of pretending these things wouldn’t be so bad. I was wrong.
I’ve already done things I didn’t want to do, and the depressing part is that I’ve got to keep doing them. Most of the time I want to watch a DVD with a hot chocolate and a blanket. But not taking risks hasn’t gotten me anywhere, and although I may stumble and fall, surely that’s better than staying put.
My downfall is that I think about things too much. Eventually a trip to a friend’s house becomes an obstacle course, each obstacle becomes an opportunity for social embarrassment and worse, another reason not to try. This results in an attempt to leave the house and the inexplicable urge to run and hide. And by run and hide, I mean take cover and eat something.
The moments when I have triumphed have been the moments I haven’t thought too much about. Working myself up over showing my arms only made me anxious, thinking about all the possible outcomes of going out on a Saturday night did not help me get ready and go.
The smaller triumphs like walking in public or booking a trip to Plymouth weren’t completely over-analysed. If I’d have thought about every little aspect I wouldn’t have gone, and I’ve avoided situations because of this.
But lately I’ve been a tad reckless – applying for jobs, going to Plymouth, flirting. And it’s all worked out well for me – I’ve got a job, part time, which I’m really pleased about, I got to see a lot of people I haven’t seen on my trip to Plymouth which was great, and I flirted and was not publicly humiliated so … that’s always a positive.
That’s not the end of it, though. My next task is to start my job, and then I want to go to the gym.
The thought is terrifying, and so I’m not thinking about it. Like Nike says, Just Do It.
Mind you, it’s not easy. I’m a beginner.