Personal Story of Sabotage

It is a warm comforting winter evening. There is a list of several thing to do and though traveling over the summer stimulates stress the reasons for ignoring the list is not stress. I was becoming to soft and needed a jolt; instead, there is something else bothering me. When something recurs throughout a person's lifetime a person has to realize that it isn't stress, situation or person causing problems. I should be celebrating, yet ideas of changing careers preoccupies my mind. Spending time thinking about the issue I may have found the problem.

With fairly regular days at a predictable pace for a few years, I actually want to try harder and go outside my comfort zone. That is how people become better. This year I finally have a sense of truly understanding skills to do my job. I already had the vision of bettering the world through helpful advice. Even with a minor in Computer Information Systems there is a learning curve. Luckily, a massive part of why this career path will workout after quitting several past jobs is it is possible to stop producing anything for awhile and the website is still here when feeling ready again. The plan works. I don't really understand why I seem to quit whenever things are getting better.

I was never physically or mentally abused as a child. My family is wonderful. Sometimes they are manipulative or neglectful. I spent many hours at the Babysitter's house or as a latchkey kid reading books in my room. My Sister is much older so it was like being an only child. Hanging out at the Babysitter's house, my Mom found someone with kids who were about the same age, it was nice talking to kids of a similar age. Sometimes I would make plans with schoolmates after school. I was likable though frequently feeling lonely.

This sounds great and I'm not complaining, yet I somehow sabotage my own attempts at becoming an independent adult. Whenever getting a promotion or raise I quit my job. It annoys me when people who are awful at their job, whether constantly late, constantly absent or just incompetent, get attention. Good employees get a quick talk about stats. It is like I do everything well and any misconduct is only slightly offensive.

I cannot make myself act inappropriately. I have had a couple infractions. One includes breaking dress code. I wore thermal pants, that look like leggings, without shorts or a dress. One time I quit with a "No Call No Show." I could have kept my job. They offered a second chance, yet I could only think about that chic who was retrained several times. I recall her talking about another retraining. She should go home. I do well. I should get all the attention.

Every year that passes while building a home business gets better. I felt awesome whenever noticing successes in my life and in other people's lives. It feels good and my life is purposeful. Though making a scant amount of money, I have made money. This is more than what other people can say so I feel good. This year I will declare taxes and it is going to get better. A major milestone is behind me. I should be planning a celebration and enjoying the moment to prepare for going forward to bigger plans and rewards. I feel awful. For the past few months I've been mopping around and have a strange ability to turn anything into evil, pure evil incarnate.

Sitting around the house I thought about how, when or if I would abuse my own children, if I ever have children of my own. Thinking about people who were abused I was never abused. The premise is total hypothesis. Realistically I will raise my children like I was raised. They will be firmly cut-off-at-the-pass and be good kids to avoid long lectures. They might also dread weird paranoid conversations about people I knew as a child. Any situation that might require physical punishment will probably never happen. They will be as paranoid as me when over think everything.

Then I started to think about improving on how I was raised. How could I do better. I would try to give attention during other regular activities.

It is like opening a gift finding this thought. I've recounted every event of my life that might cause this desire to quit. Every incident I can remember, nothing eases my mind. Nothing changes my bizarre self damaging behavior. Whenever saying anything odd or strange that might provoke concern my Mom would frequent my Friend's house to find out more about them. Suddenly they were like best friends. I thought it was nice as a child. It wasn't difficult figuring out what she was really doing at their home.

I will do the same, yet find balance by being there without plans to get them into a program for learning skills (protection from future) or just to protection from something that seems threatening. After all these years I have found a hint of masochist behavior. I like to inflict self harm in order to gain attention. I'm not angry. My need for attention has an orientation of doing things well to gain positive attention. I have skills and an ability to find my own answers to life.

Comfortable with who I became as an adult I want to stop quitting when finding a method to support myself. I am getting old. There is no time to get manic and then depressive for another few years. I remember spending time painting as a teen and then throwing my art in the garbage. Sometimes I would give it to a friend. Most of the time I have a maniacal impulse to create and then destroy.

Luckily though some people were let down, they are still better off for having known me. I like to give people skills and the ability to live on their own. Sometimes this happens through peers. In college my peers were also in college. If you want to be cool like us, you'll go to college. I remember several people getting a GED or taking college entrance exams to fit in, not just with me, with everyone.

It was nice seeing a friend of a friend taking the college entrance exam. A few months earlier they got their GED. It was an overall good feeling knowing they will be safe from harm. Now several of them are doing better than me. They have families and careers. They are not plebes in the office. They are Supervisors and Managers. Weird how after assisting in inspiring personal motivation I've spent a few weeks otherwise immobile while thinking about life.

Luckily friends and family are around. They are able see the signs. If I go back to a regular desk job, I will make everyone incredibly angry. I have heard new, exciting threats. It is a new thing. More importantly, I know should be happy not doing the usual thing. This is it. I can stick to doing what I'm doing or be in even more trouble than ever before. The logic fails in there somewhere.

I don't believe them. They are reacting. Frustration makes people say things don't mean, yet for myself it is time to solidify a career and continue to work toward ultimate goals to forever break the patterns of my most malicious enemy, myself. Writing, acting and art is my life now. I feel good. Since last night, when I made the realization, to today I wrote another blog things are going well. Since writing this blog, editing it before posting, I spent a great deal of time in bed.

Thinking about it seems to assist in getting back to work. It difficult breaking old patterns. I imagine a long line of mind-games to keep myself on task. Fortunately the world will keep spinning regardless of my decisions, yet I don't want to have a suck life.

Related Article
Love of Pain