Sunday, January 29, 2012

"My girl loves to sabotage."

You know, I just love self-diagnosing myself. With all the time I spend awake at night, it’s only natural that I over-analyze my every move. And of course I was a psychologist in my former life, so there you have it. Anyhow, one of my favorite diagnoses (only because it’s so spot-on) is that I’m a habitual self-saboteur. Trust me on this one. If you know me, or have read enough of my sad little blog entries, you know it’s true.
I have single handedly ruined numerous opportunities, dreams, relationships, you name it. Something about seeing a glimmer of hope in something or someone pushes my self-destruct button. And unfortunately, I’ve learned that it’s not just me.
 Hmmm, I guess I’m not always alone. Cue violins.
Being an observant (read nosey) individual, I’ve noticed some of my friends, family, and associates unwillingly participating in the grand act of self-sabotage as well. It’s a terrible site to see. Like a train wreck. You see it coming, but there’s no way you can stop it, so you just sit in the car and scream. And it’s always at the most predictable times.
For instance, I was dating a guy and right after I realized I was falling in love with the poor bastard I started doing the dumbest things to piss him off.  Mind you, none of it was intentional. I just found myself becoming the exact opposite of the girl any guy would like. I’ll spare you the scandalous details, but it ended in us never speaking again.
And it really is the worst with relationships. Many people tend to set themselves up from the beginning. We expert self-saboteurs like to end the party before it begins. Once the communication, flirtation, etc. starts, we put ourselves into categories based off of our own judgments of ourselves.
Make that make sense real quick.
The other party involved isn’t even allowed to form their own opinion about us, they can’t decide for themselves where they want to take things, because we’ve already done it for them. Because I see myself in a certain light, I assume that men see me in a certain light so I just stand in whatever box I figure they’ll file me in. And if they look at me and see that I’ve already graciously stood there, what are they to do but accept it?
Crazy how hope leads to hopelessness, huh?
You know, I really wish I had some awesome conclusion. A moral or lesson would fit so perfectly within this last paragraph. Unfortunately, I’m not as smart as I look. These glasses really are prescription. Honestly, this is a terrible habit I have. I second guess myself, I lose faith, and I give up. Only thing I can say to that is, “Stop it Sharde!” Well, the fact that I’ve acknowledged that I have a problem is half the battle, right? Hopefully I’ll catch myself before it happens again.

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