Monday, December 27, 2010

Ooey Gooey Rich and Chewy

I have discovered that most human beings are, on a spiritual level, ooey gooey rich and chewy inside.  There is something that loves to feast on us, especially when we're insecurity addicts.  The least little thing rings the dinner bell and the munchie crunchies come running. 

I have been in a state of major warfare with my insecurity for the past two weeks.  It's brought out the big guns, while I've dug my trenches and have been lobbing grenades at the bastard for days now.  It could be that I'm just getting over pneumonia and my defenses are low anyway, but the most likely cause is the completion of my manuscript for Freak.  I'm sending it in to get printed tomorrow and I am terrified.  While crawling over this final proof with a microscope and blowtorch, I have found the toothy whispers of self doubt have gotten almost as toothy as they were when I was a basket case.  About fifty pages in, I reared back from the computer screen with horror and yelled aloud, "Oh my's CRAP!!!"  I believe there was a bit of panic in my voice.

That's where my friends stepped in to bitch slap some sense into me.  I talked to George, a pal who's read the finished manuscript.  With the tentative embarrassment of an insecurity addict covered in spiritual life-sucking ticks, I approached him and asked hesitantly, "George...I've been reading the proof and I'm really worried.  I think it might suck."  That's as far as I got.  George looked at me and yelled, "No!  No!  I will throw you off the bridge to Connecticut...I will JUMP off the bridge to Connecticut if you say that again.  If you even think that again!  It's great!  It's fantastic!"  Since I had insecurity earwigs gnawing inside my skull at that moment, this is what I heard: "No!  Don't think that!  You're my beloved but pathetic friend.  I'll tell you any shit in the world to make you feel better about yourself.  I'll even compliment that pile of shit you had me read, just to show what a good friend I am. God, you're needy."  It's the same principle of looking in the mirror and seeing a fat dumpy old broad.  That's what I see.  Far better than the Quasimodo monster of the eyeballs of my past, but still not what's really there. 

Insecurity sits on our shoulders and runs a fourth dimensional world where we suck in every level of our existence.  I'm actually proud to see the fat dumpy old broad and not the hunchback anymore.  I'm moving up in the world.  I told a few other friends about my misgivings as to my writing abilities, and they all said the same thing.  I have talent, real talent, and to not believe myself when I stray back into the badlands. 

And they're right.  I do have talent.  I have produced crap, but I've also produced great quality.  So I gave a cynical grin at having lost that particular battle with insecurity and took immediate steps to counter the attack.  I took a spiritual flea and tick bath by concentrating on all the good I've done throughout the years, all the helping hands I've reached out with to others.  All the comforting I now do to that shivering and shattered little girl inside of me: the damaged one, the bleeding one, the innocent.  I told her I loved her.  And you know what?  The little blood sucking fuckers fell off me like rain. I may have lost that battle, but there's no way I'll ever lose the war.  The stakes are too high.  I'm fighting for my own soul.

There's something to be said for the fact that we are ooey gooey rich and chewy creatures.  There's something to be said for the fact that human beings can shine so brightly, so beautifully, that all dark things skitter and run when we're glowing.  Kindness, nobility, self-love, confidence and generosity banish shadows.  How incredibly cool is it, that we are all individual candles in the dark, stars in the heavens, and sunshine sparkling on the water?  That's certainly something worth fighting for.  So, to all my dear brothers and sisters as fucked up as I am and more, hang in there.  Even if you're a train wreck right now, remember that diamonds in the rough look like a piece of glass that fell out of a dog's ass.  But shaped and polished the right way, they're not only bright and beautiful, they're unbreakable.  Take care.

Love, R 

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