The Stories That I Tell Myself

I’ve been reading a book lately about the stories that we tell ourselves. The stories we lead our lives off of and make important decisions from. The stories that, for the most part have no truth to them. The stories that I tell myself are crushing and have broken me completely. The stories that I tell myself have led to self-destructive behavior with the intention of sabotaging anything good. I decided to finally write a list of the stories that I listen to way too often and share them.  Not to have anyone say, “oh no, that’s not true!” or to have anyone pity me. We all live under the weight of and suffer from our stories, I thought that if I put mine out there that someone, even just one person would see that they are not alone. Our stories, as fucked up and twisted as they are, are not the truth. I know deep down that they can be dropped…I haven’t figured it all out yet, but I’m on an active journey…

The stories that I tell myself:

I am burden to everyone in my life

I work in a career field that is way too saturated to ever make anything of myself

I am a poor loser who can’t afford to participate in the world

My family judges me, doesn’t take me seriously or listen to me

My body is disgusting

I have no energy and I will always feel like shit

There is something wrong with me and everybody knows it

No matter how hard I try, I will always just be average

No one understands me

I’m incapable of feeling balanced

I don’t deserve to be loved

 

I’m not really concerned with shocking anyone with this post because I know that everyone in the world operates on contorted and inaccurate fantasies about themselves. My stories interfere with my job, my relationships, my drive and motivation. Like I said, I haven’t figured out how to drop them completely yet, but it’s on my radar, right in front of me. It’s hard to let go of these intangible grips that I’m so used to surrendering to and bowing down to, but I know it’s necessary for my own sanity. It’s necessary for all of our sanity.

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