I’m a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad person – or so I once believed

Do you remember that children’s book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, no Good, Very Bad Day? I LOVED that book as a kid. No matter how bad of a day I had, Alexander’s day always trumped mine. Thinking about this book, and my life, I realized there are quite a few parallels between Alexander’s perceptions of his day and my perceptions of myself. I’ll explain.

Alexander endures many taunts, teases and snide remarks from his siblings and people at school.

I was that kid growing up who always got picked on. My short stature, glasses, and unruly curls were great tinder for bully’s jokes and taunts. By the time I got to high school, I had friends in all cliques at school, had a different boyfriend every month and was well on my way to becoming a successful young woman. However, that didn’t change the fact that after years of put-downs and taunts, deep inside, I truly believed I was ugly, fat, stupid, and would never garner the love of an awesome guy. I tried to prove everyone wrong, though. I was an over-achiever, worked hard at how I looked, and tried my best to be the best girlfriend in the universe. I may have convinced others, but I hadn’t convinced myself.

When they go to the shoe store, the color of shoe Alexander wants is out of stock.

I don’t think I have enough fingers and toes to count the number of times I’ve had a goal or vision of how something should turn out, only to have it fall short of my expectations. When I was married, each time I hoped, prayed, and tried to garner every speck of faith I had that things would be different this time – I was disappointed almost every time. Each time this happened, I slowly began to lose faith – in myself as a wife and mother, in God, and in love in general. Because I had been taught to not blame God, and love was an intangible thing, I turned all the disappointment and frustration inwards. By the time my ex moved out, I was completely convinced I was a woman of no faith, no value, that I was fat, that I could never make any man happy and that I was horrible mother. Yet, I kept going to school, got a 4.0 that first semester after my divorce, and graduated Summa Cum Laude with a 3.93 GPA. How could I see myself so differently than others? They obviously saw something of worth in me. But again, I wasn’t convinced.

When Alexander, his mom, and siblings visit their dad at work, Alexander tries to help his dad by trying to fix the printer. Instead, it breaks.

After trying repeatedly to fix my marriage, help my son who was struggling in school, and learn to overcome my negative emotional downward spirals I often found myself in, I decided the more I tried to “fix” everything, the more it broke. I finally came to the conclusion, about 4 years after my divorce, that I was broken – that I always would be broken - and that nothing could fix me. After years of trying everything I could think of to see myself as others saw me – someone awesome and amazing, I couldn’t and I gave up. Nothing worked. I always fell back on thinking I was a loser. Every time my kids made a mistake. Every time I made a mistake. I never felt like I’d be good enough for anyone- for God, for my parents, for my kids, for my ex, for the people at church, for my professors and employers… the list went on and on. I often wondered how in the world people could love me when I could never seem to get anything right. Couldn’t they see what a horrible person I was? My ex had finally figured it out. All the guys I had dated figured it out. Why didn’t anyone else see it? Were they completely blind?

It all comes back to perceptions. At the end of the book, Alexander’s mom tells him things really weren’t all that bad, and some days are like that. His response was that he wanted to move to Australia. Sounded good to me, I thought. 

But then one day on a run I realized I’ve been living my life trying to meet what I thought other’s expectations were. The problem is, I don’t really know what their expectations of me were, and what it really came down to was my expectations of myself. I’ve always had the problem of thinking I could do better than I was, so I was always disappointed in myself when I didn’t achieve the near perfect expectations I’d set for myself. On top of that, I thought everyone would be disappointed in me, and think less of me, if I didn’t meet my expectations. When really, they were amazed at all I was simply trying to accomplish.

Since I started running, and more recently training for triathlons, I’ve missed a lot of my expectations. My initial thought is always that I am a failure, unworthy of praise and love. How quickly I forgot that this is a process. Learning how to clip in and out of clipless pedals will inevitably include some falls and bruises. And no one expects otherwise. Only I was. Because I should be able to do better, right? And if I can’t, that means I’m not an athlete at all, and certainly not worthy of anyone’s praise or admiration, right? And it also means I’m a terrible person for even beating myself up and getting down about it, when I should just learn from it and move on. But because I get grumpy and beat myself up every time that means I’m a terrible person, right? 

I mentioned in Mental Muscle that I wanted to gain the mental strength I saw in Kermit during Ironman Kentucky. And I have to be honest that I’ve been really disappointed with myself the past couple of months. I don’t feel like I’ve made any progress. With my first open water sprint triathlon this weekend in PalmSprings, and just getting over the flu or strep throat or something nasty, and after signing up for my first Ironman in Cozumel next December, it hit me today that I’ve got to try harder to snap out of this. Kermit says he believes in me. My coach and even the Iron Cowboy say they know I can swim 750 meters. But it’s time I believe in me. But how exactly does one do that? How do you push aside years of self-loathing and not believing in yourself and really truly know, yes, I can do this? Sometimes I feel like I’m close to the answer, or so close I can touch that ray of hope I’ve long since dismissed. 

I’m afraid I’m stumped on this one. I started out this post thinking I’m overcoming the “I’m a terrible, horrible, no good very bad person” mantra. But I think I was wrong. I don’t know if I can make the 30 minute cut off on the swim. I don’t think I’m good enough for that- or to be an Ironman. I don’t know how to do this. I’ve tried everything I can think of over the years and nothing works. But I know I need to figure it out - by Sunday.