Some of this is distressingly familiar:
Not Good Enough. Ever feel that way? I know I do. Often. Too often. In fact, it is quite possibly the bane of my existence. Well, maybe not the bane of my existence but it is the thing that I have the hardest time shaking and always has been.
When that feeling hits me, I do a little internal search. Why? Why do I feel that way? Is there some deep, dark secret or a devastating buried memory that makes me feel that way? But then, logic never helps when it comes to things like that, does it? It seems the bad feelings, the feelings of inadequacy and non-deserving-ness (yes, I just made up a word) don’t come from a place of logic. They come from a place of feelings. Bad feelings.
Sometimes we’re our own harshest critics: we fail to live up to some obscure, possibly subconscious, criterion, and suddenly we find ourselves ready to eat worms.
I am, I need hardly point out, no less susceptible to this sort of thing. I cope by compartmentalization: my inability to deal with things is not a fixed quantity, so I try to focus on the things I do comparatively well and distance myself from areas in which I perform poorly. One reason I’ve worked at the same job for so long is that it provides no support for an inferiority complex: should I find myself feeling vaguely inadequate to some particular task, all I need to do is wait a few minutes and I will be presented with an example of true, sometimes even spectacular, inadequacy. This generally doesn’t help my mood of the moment the transition from self-pity to disgust is not the easiest to manage but it takes some of the strain off my sense of self.
I am at the age where the gap between where I am and where I thought I wanted to be is presumably at its widest. I console myself with the fact that I am not actually on my deathbed, and therefore things can change. “Go with the flow” is a notion utterly foreign to my nature, but there are times when I have to concede that it’s easier to swim with the current. And then I remember that I don’t swim that well anyway, and the cycle starts anew.
Once upon a time, for reasons long since forgotten, I engaged an astrologer to do a frighteningly-detailed natal chart for me. Early on, she explained some of the angular momentum, giving special attention to the square, superficially the most negative of all the aspects. “But people with no squares at all,” she noted, “never have to struggle, never have to overcome obstacles, and often as not never amount to anything worthwhile. If you have a square or two, you’re perfectly normal.”
This was before she discovered I had eleven of them, but that’s another matter.