Listen. Come a little closer. That’s right–here around the corner. I need to tell you something.
Please keep this in confidence, okay?
I know you’ve come to expect a humorous juxtaposition of roast and homage here on the blog every Wednesday. Believe me, I have plenty of willing “victims” lining up, waiting on me to “hate” them. In fact, if I don’t get off my duff, and start doing so, plenty of people are going to start hating me. đ
Thing is, I’m just not feeling it today. I’m feeling nothing so much as tired, and vulnerable.
In fact, I kinda hate myself.
I hate that:
I too often settle for “good enough,” instead of excellence.
I have a hard time (especially lately) accepting responsibility when I’m wrong.
I constantly critique, and compare, myself to other (in my estimation) more successful bloggers (I always come out on the short end).
I, at 42 years old, too often believe my dad’s words about me–and not my heavenly Father’s.
I’m afraid that, though I’m laying my heart bare here, no one will care.
Don’t get me wrong: I have a blessed, wonderful, privileged life–great kids, beautiful wife–but sometimes I just don’t wanna be me.
I want to be better, I want to be whole.
I’m waiting for God to make me whole.
Sometimes it’s just hard living in the tension between the now and the not yet, you know?
This constantly being in transition is vexing to my introverted soul.
Sorry if that all sounds like nothing so much as a pity party–it’s just where I’m at today.
How about you? Do you ever hate yourself?
(Please note: it’s been a very busy day. I know I promised to announce the winner of the Quitter book, and I will–later).
