Sabotage

I had an English teacher in High School who once described me as ‘incredibly self-destructive’. She believed that I was an intelligent and capable person who actually was scared of success and performing in life in a way that would lead me towards a great and exciting life/career. She commented occasionally on my tendency to take actions that would directly hurt my ability to achieve my goal, and finally she asked me why I did it.

I never was able to think of a good reason for it, but it is an unfortunate habit, or possibly series of habits, that has carried over into my adulthood far longer than it should have. After living overseas, after a multitude of attempts to try to whip my body or my mind into shape, I manage to often fall back onto the same set of excuses and bad decisions that lead to me failing to achieve whatever I had intended to do.

There’s always something that seems to get in the way- maybe I get busy, maybe I start to date someone, maybe I find a new project or a new TV show to obsess over. Maybe I start to go out more and maybe I start to binge read books or maybe I decide that it’s time for me to pick up that other old habit that I had tossed aside. Maybe I just can’t focus.

Maybe it’s just a lack of discipline. I often chafe at the idea of having a good schedule but the reality is that in the times that I’ve had a good, regular schedule for work and for school, I’ve always managed to balance my eating, sleeping and exercise habits along with many of my personal hobbies. Those times are rare and easily disrupted- that sort of circadian homeostasis is delicate and beautiful. I miss that taste of productivity.

When I first moved back to Columbus, my first week was filled with exercise and writing. I accomplished a great deal even as I applied for jobs, but by the time week two rolled around, I was back into some unhealthy habits- sitting around all day, binge watching TV while attempting to also sort of enjoy playing a video game on my PC. I did it automatically, barely tasting any of the media I consumed and gaining nothing from it other than glad to have something to fill the schedule.

Building up that discipline- setting realistic goals and things to achieve- is difficult. It’s far from easy but especially for someone that has historically been so scared of success, the idea of discipline and an ordered path to personal achievement can be frightening in and of itself. Discipline is a sign of commitment, the desire to achieve something so bad that I control my baser emotions. It’s the subjugation of my distraction and inattention, the willingness to work.

As I’ve gotten older, my natural desire to self-sabotage has certainly attenuated, but now I can’t help but when if that’s because I’ve matured or simply because I’ve stopped taking any real risks. I’ve moved overseas and live there twice, and I recently set myself up for another move and am doing well. I can’t help but wonder, though, if I’ve set my goals a little lower than my capabilities.