Mens sane in corpore sanum, or something

[ailbhe]

I'm sure you can correct the Latin.

I've realised something over the past two days - I'm afraid that when my body has been fixed (28 days from now, apparently) I will have to be better in my mind as well - and I just won't be. A large part of the problem is imagining how much everyone hates me being such a moany whinger, which isn't helped when people tell me I am - the whole "It could be worse" scenario. At least now I have the excuse of being physically seriously unwell; when I've been surgically fixed, I have no tangible excuse not to frolic gaily through the budding spring, pausing to feed lambs, show Linnea nesting birdies, and bake my own bread, etc.

Well, except that it won't be spring, of course. Inset carol singers, roast chestnuts, and cutting down my own Christmas tree in the snow with a humourously red nose, then.

Guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt RESENTMENT guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt guilt DEFENSIVENESS guilt guilt guilt. I wonder how much of this has to do with growing up in holy catlick Ireland, even though my mother isn't very holy catlick at all?

Comments

[radegund.livejournal.com]

no tangible excuse

Oh, I can relate to that! When I'm feeling low, I sometimes catch myself wishing I could come down with some convenient illness, just to give me something to wave at people and shut them up...

I don't know if this applies to you, but for me this is linked to the deep-seated, persistent and frankly embarrassing conviction that I (unlike other people) can be either (a) entirely perfect (the budding spring / knit your own Christmas tree bit), or (b) unlovable, unforgivable and undeserving of anything good. This, as niallm patiently points out, is not actually a reasonable position. But it's still in there, and it comes out to throw its weight around whenever it sees an opening.

Baby steps...

[ailbhe]

Yeah, I have the good-enough-is-never-good-enough thing as mentioned here before. Cuddly, innit?