My routine usually consists of taking care of the day’s madness before settling down at night and doing some reading and catching up on what friends are doing (ya know social media, fbook, Instagram).
It’s pretty enjoyable until I get to the blogs. They’re not always mediocre or fun, because when you have something you’ve just got to say (like typed out in excess of 1,000+ words), it’s not always pleasant. But I read them, just cause I feel like I have a duty, an obligation to keep up with everything my friends are going thru. But when I read them, I really take them to heart and they get me bummed out.
Sometimes they get me down to a point where I just want to keep to myself and hate myself like how a bird kept in darkness plucks off its own feathers. And it’s usually when I’m in this prostate position that these bullies, self doubt and self loathing come out to prey. And the more I question myself, and my self-worth and just look inside of me for the answers is when they get stronger.
The only way for me to fix this problem is from the outside in. I make lists, and start crossing things off: get physical, do chores, avoid diversions. And when I look at these external evidence of being productive that is what makes me feel better. I don’t need an epiphany or revelation to dawn on me. (Those hardly come, except done in positive form like meditation or a retreat.) Nope, my antidrug is getting $#!T done.
That, and no more late night blog reading. (I’ve only recently realized that these blogs are sometimes just a fleeting thought written down. They’re not permanent realities. So once these people exorcise their demons, I shouldn’t be ingesting them.)