my own worse critic

Darlene Morgan
Aug 18
3 min read

I am my own worse and terrible critic. I cannot seem to be happy with myself. I feel like I don't do enough. When at the gym, I wish I did more.

When I make a purchase I question every bit of it and think I should have gotten a better deal or thought to ask more questions.

But ... at this particular time, I just don't feel well about myself.

I am okay.

I am not done in this world.

Nothing like that.

But right now, I just want to cry on a shoulder. How pathetic!

And this is not an invitation, not that I can elicit one at this time, but I am sick of being single. But even then, I don't feel great about meeting anyone. I just want a guys shoulder to cry on and that is it.

I think to myself, I am not fit enough for someone. I wish my body were ... different.

And I know males (not all) just cannot talk about serious stuff. That's okay. I'm not criticizing. Even us females have a hard time with it. Actually, I do not know a male whom I have known long enough to really dig into these feelings. I know one. But, I already bother him with other stuff.

I don't like talking to my female friends about my troubles too much because I feel I should be more uplifting to them.

Like, by now, I should have my sh*t together.

I get to feeling better - I am fine and feel good about what I can get done in a day.

Then, I feel tired and not great. I push myself to go to the gym. To get work done. To get more work done in my home.

I cannot wait to see my 'new' therapist this Wednesday.

Therapy is probably something I've needed for a while. I quit going back in 2018 pretty much right before my ex died. I was feeling well and even got off my anti-depressant. Then a month later, he died.

Once I got past the first two years of his death, I began therapy again. It was okay. But for the most part, I floated through it. Not exactly paying attention to what I needed to do. I really forced myself to 'recover.'

And when I hit a monumental revelation about my childhood, I decided I was done with therapy. As if, I figured out what was really bothering me.

But then I don't know.

I do not get it.

I am thankful. I am blessed. My girls and my son are healthy (please God keep them that way). I really have nothing to complain about. Other than feeling I spent too much getting my daughters car fixed. Questioning myself and my financial decisions.

Did I tell you I fear God?

Not like He is some big scary person. No, not the way I do fear some people.

But I fear I am doing right with my money. How I spend it. I try so hard to be disciplined with it all.

I splurge and feel guilty. But it also feels good to treat myself or my girls. I definitely spend more on my daughters than myself.

I saw an ex-boyfriend the other day and he is doing well. Minus a few health issues, but for sure more well than I thought he would be. Last time I saw him he was in jail. Damn. Those days. It wasn't for bad stuff nothing like what our so called president has done and should be in jail for. No, this jail time was just for stuff. Minor stuff. Unpaid stuff.

I guess I thought, all these years I would be fine.

I reached out to a friend tonight. Someone who hasn't heard it all, and someone I knew I would not have to worry about what I say.

She helped.

She said something that really hit home.

She said, maybe I am trying to break loose of something. Not just the greif of my ex - but something else that cannot be identified. And it is frustrating.

That felt so true.

Something, I cannot seem to identify.

Is there anyone out there who can identify with what I am feeling?

I cannot be the only one.

#anxietyattacks #diary #journal #prayfirst #believeinyourself #depression #therapy