Ohhhh: A Therapeutic Realization

In therapy yesterday, I stumbled across something kind of profound. Maybe? Enough that it made me go, "Ohhhh..." which for therapy I think is the general goal.

I have never really tried. In life.

I've always done good enough. Well enough? My grades in school were decent, I always worked just hard enough for the Bs, I went to a good college and graduated early, but I didn't really push myself to my fullest abilities. I was lazy ,which is kind of the theme of my life. I picked a major I found interesting, but I didn't pursue anything I was passionate about, I didn't join anything really. I stayed on the sidelines. I didn't stay with drama past my first year, which is the thing I always said I wanted to do as a career.

Yeah, I wanted to act. We've discussed this. In my over-reaching little brain, from a young age, I really wanted to be a famous movie stah. So cliche, right? But I held onto that dream for way too long, and the idea that I was supposed to be special. Even once I realized I was too fat for fame, I still thought whatever I did involved me being special, me being important.

And I think these two things were linked.

I was supposed to be special, and I didn't try. If I didn't try, I didn't have to find out that I wasn't special.

Ohhhh.

I was paralyzed. I was afraid. Afraid of a boring life, of choosing some path or career and being bored. Or boring. Of failure, disappointment, disappointing myself or my parents or the world. If I wasn't going to be special, why be anything? And why try to be special, when I might not be?

So I was nothing.

Ohhhh.

Thanks, therapy.