Posts Tagged Fimo
Is it shit? Or is it me?
I have a tendency to think everything is shit/I am shit/life is shit/shitshitshit.
I have re-written this post five times because my writing is shit.
I gave up at my attempt at an very needed conversation with my mum about what was going on inside my head because what I think is all shit.
I have not written any stories or poems since the end of my degree because everyone else is better than me and I am shit.
I am convinced everyone I love will eventually hate me because I am innately shit.
I do not send people letters I write (after a promise of old style pen-pals) because anything I have to say is shit.
I give up on therapy because I think my therapist thinks I am a shit.
I did not want to make a blog post about the sock monkeys I have been making, because I am shit.
(sorry for the slightly out of focus images. I have shakey mad-person hands..thank you psych meds, thank you…yes, once again, it is because of the meds!)
So, today I am giving a large Fuck You to my crappy ‘everything is shit’ self confidence issues.
I am very aware that my ‘it is all shit, I am bollocks’ mind set will lead me no where expect, possibly, to a career as a speed bump much like Raymond. I do not want that. I know so many people feel like this – for me, sock monkeys have helped..not because I think I am good at it, but because it keeps me too busy to listen to my head. I generally send the stuff I make to friends (the neglected pen pals) and that helps too – because it makes other people happy, I like doing that.
In therapy you occasionally get sent ‘review letters’ which are pretty much school reports for mad people. Mine generally read something like ‘tries hard, talks too much, has self confidence issues’. Every time. I started crafting, not to be good at it, but I found I need to keep my hands busy. If I sew/knit/make cards/bead/embroider/draw my hands and mind are not so free to strave/binge/purge/cut/explode. It sounds obvious and simple doesn’t it? When I entered therapy at 14 I did art therapy, and since then I have been in so many art and craft classes. When I was inpatient in hospital I loved the creative writing and art groups..and they were main reason I complied with my treatment plan. During my most recent hospitalization I panicked and cried while in a large room of loud strangers (something I never do) purely due to the promise of Fimo. Why? Because I like it and it helps.
The reason I have only just (after nine long years) realised I can carry this into my not-in-therapy free time is all down my ‘you are shit at all the stuff’ imp that sits on my shoulder. Without a kindly therapist telling me I was doing well & being kind to me I could not tolerate the idea of trying.
I am trying to change that. With sock monkeys, sock zebras and other crafty things. It sounds so small doesn’t it?
But really – it is pretty big. I would advocate this to anyone. Make things, even if you think you are shit at it, it may help.
My Fimo is nearly cooked.
I am on a roll.
I have always been shy, sensitive and a little mad, I do not think that will change really. I may never become a brilliant positive person with bags of self confidence..but I think I may be able to live alongside my ‘everything is shit’ imp rather than let it cripple me. A therapy quote, I have one: Self acceptance is more helpful that total transformations. I do so very much believe that.
(Ps: blame any spelling mistakes on the meds. Yes. yet again)