Good Enough

I've been in a funk for the past week. Lots of stress. Wee, fun. But I had also begun to become optimistic about something I've wanted for a long long time, and decided to go for it. Then, of course, something happened and it left me wondering if I'd be good enough for what I wanted. I wondered if I ever had been before or ever would be.

I know I'm fabulous. Or at least that's what I tell myself. I do it in the hopes hearing it often enough will make me think it's actually true. I'm going to have to start saying it a lot more.

I've started to withdraw again, spend a lot of time alone. Of course, in doing that, I have nobody else telling me how fabulous I am. I have to rely on me, and I lie a lot.

I suppose I need to scoot to the shrink and get my meds adjusted and force myself to go out more often. I'm even back to considering a part-time job again. It'll give me something to do, something to keep me busy. And give me money, too. The only downside is the ones I want to do start out at minimum wage. Nothing builds your self-esteem than someone saying, "A monkey can do this job, so we're only going to pay you as little as we can get away with."

In any case, I'll just keep plugging along.