Plagued with Self Doubt

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My Momma praying for me

Self doubt is my worst enemy. I seem like a very confident strong woman. For the most part I am but there are days and those days sometimes turn into weeks in which I don’t believe in myself. Keep in mind that I am an Oklahoman. I am one of the proud people of the plains who believe that with enough elbow grease you can get anything done. If you don’t get it done, you must not have wanted it bad enough. I do to a point believe that. I do believe that the fact I am not at my goal weight is because I didn’t want it early enough or have enough gumption to get the ball rolling. I also believe I haven’t had enough passion to keep it rolling. I know that seems simplistic. There are so many factors in achieving a goal: environment, personal health, and support etc. However, isn’t desire the most important part?

I would say desire, confidence, and hope. I mean these are the only things that I can bring to the situation, no matter the goal. Want and confidence I guess factor into hope. I feel like hope makes the time go faster when you are working on something. Hope makes the minutes on the elliptical machine speed by, and hope for a better future makes toiling away listening to a customer screaming at me now more pleasant or I at least more tolerable.

When I doubt myself, it is the coldest place in my heart. It’s like I have no confidence, and therefore no hope, except for prayer. My momma says, “Give it to God.” Now she says that, but she used to say, “Got helps those who help themselves.” I mean I can pray all the day long while eating pizza and my goal of losing weight will still go out the window. I do pray for strength, but I think my mother’s first thought was the correct one. I have to also help myself.

I have to believe that God gave me the strength and the fortitude to accomplish my goals. So where does that come from. I know that some days I feel it, but sometimes I just don’t. Inner strength seems to come and go, but I don’t know what causes it to go. More importantly, it seems so hard to dig myself out. Not only that but it seems like I store self doubt in my closet and when I pull out one box, all the other boxes come out and clobber me. When I am knocked out under the boxes and boxes of doubt, I think, I can’t do anything right. What’s the point? Why apply myself with anything if I always fail? How do I stop this thinking? How do I slowly pick box after box off the floor and clean them out and return them to the closet. Because by the time I recognize it is happening it is always to the point where I am down there on the floor.

Well, there is prayer. I ask God for strength and to help me get back my gumption. The second thing that I usually do is try to do something small I know I am good at. My go to move is to make a dinner I know I cook well. I personally believe I make the best chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes and gravy in the upper northwest. The practice of making this meal makes me feel capable and smart. I know that too seems simple a task but sometimes I have to go back to step one. Okay I can do this. Not only is this meal special in that I make it very delicious. It is the meal that most reminds me of and makes me proud of my home. Don’t get me wrong, if I could make a decent pie that is what I would do. Pies are also what make me proud of the Midwest. I can’t do that, but I make a mean gravy. It is not good for my waist line but boy is making that meal good for my soul. I feel competent, I get compliments, and I am transported home. Then I can move onto bigger things like getting onto that elliptical again, not eating after a certain time of night, or editing that book I have been working on. I have to go back to walking before I can run.

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