77. Playing Whac-a-mole against myself.

PMA (positive mental attitude) and comparing myself to other women.

I’m sat on some stairs by the allotment with a cup of rooibos tea next to me. The sun is shining and I’m supposed to be reading the book I brought with me but I can’t. I can’t keep the voice in my head silent whilst I read. She’s not got a very “positive mental attitude”. I found this term a few days ago whilst watching a YouTube vlog. When I googled it I saw that it comes from one of Napoleon Hill’s books, which is a shame because I can’t stand him but it gets the job done for this essay.

My positive mental attitude, or as people belonging to my generation are calling it: PMA, is low today. It’s very low. In my opinion, the last pieces of work I’ve written have been rather rubbish. I’m not proud of the structure, the fluency, the tone or even the vocabulary used. I think they could have been much better. This thought pattern has led me to feeling unmotivated to write because I’m not happy with anything I’m creating. I have 3 drafts of last week’s post and another two for this week’s post. I’ve tried writing about different topics or even the same topic from different approaches. I’ve tried structuring it out on paper before writing it and then trying to follow it while writing, nothing’s working.

I’m writing, and I’m writing stuff that probably isn’t even that bad, but my “PMA” is not at an all time high so I’m probably just playing whac-a-mole against myself.

I’ve been having dreams about “finding the perfect POMELO topic” and feeling calm throughout the dream because I found the key I was missing to unlock this gigantic padlock. Then, I’d wake up and of course it would all be gone and I’d be left feeling like a failure again. Not only for not having a great topic to write about but also for forgetting the magic key I’d been handed by the time I’d woken up (another round of whac-a-mole).

I tried to have a siesta this afternoon because I was mentally exhausted but every time I closed my eyes my mind was racing all over the place. Jumping from thought to thought, reminders of what I’d not done off of my to-do list, wondering if I offended someone with my WhatsApp message, feeling butterflies in my stomach from worry and having to open my eyes quickly hoping this would make it all stop. It does, but then the thoughts come flooding back again. Thoughts about things that aren’t even in my control but for some reason I make them mine.

When my boyfriend came to see me lying on the sofa asking me if I’d manage to sleep, I told him that I hadn’t and I gradually started opening up about how I was feeling regarding writing. I let the knot in my throat loosen and I allowed the words to flow out with ease. I said out loud that I didn’t feel like I was good enough. I read some really fantastic newsletters and I feel like they all write so much better than me, have better skills and explain themselves much more clearly.

The true monster here is comparison. I’m comparing myself to people I admire and I’m trying to be like them and of course, when I’m not achieving it, I feel like a failure. I’m fully aware that I’m not them and that they’re not me, and no matter how hard I try I’ll never truly be anyone else but myself, and that’s cool because each person is unique in their own way. But when your “PMA” isn’t at its strongest: the walls begin to crack, the water starts to find a way in and if you don’t stop it, you end up swimming in it.

Before having heard of the word “PMA” I used to imagine my inner voice in the following way: I’m walking through life on a tightrope with a long horizontal pole in my hands. On the left side I’m carrying the positive thoughts and on the right side I’m carrying the negative thoughts. When I’m in a strong mental state, I’m focused and concentrated on treading carefully with intention along the rope. I’m connected to my body and I’m in control of it. I’m aware of my hands and what I’m carrying on each side of the pole. If I start to think of negative things, I can quickly rebalance it by shifting my weight to the opposite hand and as a result, carry on walking firmly.

When I’m not in a strong mental place, I tread with the wrong part of my foot and feel unstable, I feel the fear of falling, I shift my focus to the outside and lose control of my weight and thoughts. My legs begin to tremble and the pole seems much heavier than before. The negative thoughts begin to pile up in my right hand and I know that eventually I’ll fall off of the tightrope. This is how I’m feeling right now. I’ve let so many negative thoughts into my mind that all I can see are things I’m “doing wrong”. I feel insecure. I feel like I’m falling and I can’t stop myself in mid-air. Maybe this POMELO is the way I stop falling. I’ll finally be able to sit down, look up towards the tightrope and see what thoughts caused me to fall and I learn now how to redirect them. This is my thump against the floor. I can take a pause, get my ducks in a row and climb back up the ladder to the top of the tightrope and start again. Step by step.

It’s very difficult, or imposible to say the least, to have a “PMA” every day of our lives. Life happens no matter how much we meditate, no matter how often we go to therapy, no matter how many self help books we read, no matter how much time we spend with our phones in airplane mode. Life happens whether we’re prepared for it or not. Sometimes we’ll be more prepared than others. Some days we’ll be unstoppable and we’ll fly through the week on a high vibration. Sometimes life happens and it stuns us, it shows us what’s inside that needs attention, it faces us with things we’ve not dealt with yet, it shows us where to look inside of ourselves.

My lesson has been comparison.

I admire women who write without fear, who write about things everyone else is too scared of saying. I admire women who don’t play it safe and do what they feel like they want and need to do. I admire women who write with passion and with their heart on their sleeve no matter what the posible outcome may be. I admire them, I read their books, I read their newsletters and I write about them in my journal. But I’m not them, and that’s okay. They’re not my competition and we’re in this together. Nobody is my rival and nobody is battling against me apart from myself.

Words come easy when I’m writing from my gut. When I’m writing with a bit of fear. When I’m pulling up the weeds from my inner garden. Words come easy when I let my own voice speak freely without trying to tame her.

Maybe I’m not so different from the other women I admire, but it’s easier to see it in someone else rather than in yourself sometimes.

STUFF I’VE BEEN LOVING

• This essay by

  gelatina de postre
  🍮 about work/jobs/happiness.

• This online store - chandal.tv

• This YouTube video - Bad Bunny Carpool Karaoke

• This YouTube video made me cry ❤️

• I’m absolutely obsessed with these shorts + the matching shirt 🥹

• This film - Dreamgirls (I know all the songs)

• This song by Julieta

• This song by Pepe : Vizio, KIDDO