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Shifts in Anxiety
So, I'm a little tired of going through the social anxiety phase after any ritual for which I do something significant.
Every damned meeting I run, every trance exercise, every performance, at some point afterwards, I'm sitting in a corner, mentally, going over the details trying to figure out if I made a total fool of myself, if I'm a fraud, if everyone is just humoring me, or too polite to show how horrified they are at how inept I am, etc. etc.
It's exhausting. Not to mention useless.
Now, I'm glad that it's not outright panic attacks - no, those are usually reserved for things like school, and I haven't had any since I finished at SCU. Hopefully being on meds means they won't just start right back up again when I start dealing with Grad School.
But even so... how many iterations of this do I have to go through before I will accept that I have a group to run because people enjoy that group, and I have rituals to lead because I'm competent at running (or helping run) rituals, and I have performances to make because people appreciate my arts, and I have trance work to do because the Gods have things to say and actually like using my mouth to say it with?
I know I'm valued and loved, but all too often I can't help but assume it's like a beloved kitten, fuzzy, cute, happy-making, and likely to fall flat on my face if I actually try to accomplish something.
Which is particularly stupid when I actually stop to analyze what all I have, in fact, accomplished.
Which leads me to question what it is I expect of myself, and I come up with one clear, unequivocal answer: Self Sufficiency.
Which is nowhere in sight. *Sigh*
-E-
Every damned meeting I run, every trance exercise, every performance, at some point afterwards, I'm sitting in a corner, mentally, going over the details trying to figure out if I made a total fool of myself, if I'm a fraud, if everyone is just humoring me, or too polite to show how horrified they are at how inept I am, etc. etc.
It's exhausting. Not to mention useless.
Now, I'm glad that it's not outright panic attacks - no, those are usually reserved for things like school, and I haven't had any since I finished at SCU. Hopefully being on meds means they won't just start right back up again when I start dealing with Grad School.
But even so... how many iterations of this do I have to go through before I will accept that I have a group to run because people enjoy that group, and I have rituals to lead because I'm competent at running (or helping run) rituals, and I have performances to make because people appreciate my arts, and I have trance work to do because the Gods have things to say and actually like using my mouth to say it with?
I know I'm valued and loved, but all too often I can't help but assume it's like a beloved kitten, fuzzy, cute, happy-making, and likely to fall flat on my face if I actually try to accomplish something.
Which is particularly stupid when I actually stop to analyze what all I have, in fact, accomplished.
Which leads me to question what it is I expect of myself, and I come up with one clear, unequivocal answer: Self Sufficiency.
Which is nowhere in sight. *Sigh*
-E-