I’ve hit one of those lulls again. Impostor syndrome writ large. I don’t feel I’m good at anything I do — writing, editing, any sort of creative endeavor. I’m not a good wife, or a good mother, or a good daughter, or a good friend.
I mean well. I’ll give myself that. But I keep spinning in circles, coming up empty.
It occurs to me that this is why I keep seeking validation from goals lists and fitness trackers and productivity apps. I want to feel good at something, and by crossing things off of lists and achieving goals, I can feel like I am at least good at getting things done.
But what does it matter if I’m good at getting things done if they are not the right things?
I have learned that these feelings are blips on the radar. That I can ride them out, and they’ll eventually pass. But I haven’t figured out how to maintain my calm as I do so. Instead I lose sleep to nightmares and anxiety attacks and snap at the children and fill up online shopping carts and then abandon them instead of getting my work done. (And then blogging about it as a further procrastination measure.)
Perhaps that’s what I should work on first: Strengthening my calm.