3:19 pm - Sunday, Oct. 16, 2005
From the back cover of Why Can't I Ever Be Good Enough?:
As a child, you created unspoken and binding internal contracts with yourself that stated, "If I behave in a certain way, my parents will give me what I need in return". When those needs weren't met, you believed it was because you weren't good enough.
"I'm obviously a complicated, messy, psychologically damaged weirdo--and that's the fundamental requirement of my job. It's unfortunate people can't understand that and leave me to my padded cell."
Right now, I'm reading James Frey's A Million Little Pieces, an account of his time in recovery (Recovery from...well, just about everything).
Frey doesn't sugarcoat anything. The point of his memoir is not to make you like him, it's to tell his story.
And if I've got anything worth saying, if there's an honest-to-God writer somewhere inside me, I need to be a little more like him
Emailing back-and-forth with Tim F., my friend from high school days, makes me think about how a lot of my relationships have ended badly.
I don't remember, in any specific way, a lot of the neediness, low-self esteem, and 'angry jim' episodes that Tim alludes to (I have no memory, for example, of the fit I had over Death Of A Salesman that Tim considered "the final straw" of our relationship), but I remember some, and can infer more from the way that relationship ended--with Tim having "had enough" of my shit, basically--and from the way my life has gone in general.
Well, this last little bit is "tip of the iceberg" stuff (How I ended up where I am), but work beckons, and I wouldn't be able to hash this out in a single entry anyway.
Until next time...
0 comments so far