My dear readers, I have been absent from blogging and writing for far longer than I am comfortable with. Life got a bit crazy (read abso-bloody-lutely awful) and I lost faith and interest in everything, reduced to simply going through the motions day by day, waiting for something to happen. Yesterday I reached rock bottom, had an avalanche of rejections and bad news, and dealt with it like an adult by hiding in my bed and having a cry about how crap my life was.
Then something hit me.
Lying in bed crying about how the Universe hated me made me feel better for about ten seconds. Then I just felt sorry for myself, had a blocked nose, and looked like crap, which made me feel worse (like Helen from Bridesmaids, I am definitely an ugly crier). It didn’t actually change my situation. It didn’t magic a job opportunity into my lap. Or a one way plane ticket. Or even the winning lottery numbers. It didn’t get rid of my hideous bosses or screechy customers, it didn’t make my workplace treat me like a human being, and it didn’t make anyone appreciate me more. I wasn’t suddenly chilling on a beach in Thailand, riding through a sunlit forest or having the freedom to run my own life.
It achieved absolutely nothing.
And that’s when I had a second wave of realisation.
(This all sounds very profound but in reality I was hiding under the duvet with birds nest hair and snotting all over the place: transformation is not as glamorous as it seems)
I had zero control over the things which were happening to me. I couldn’t make people respond to my emails with Yes’s. I couldn’t magic up my dream job just because I want it. I couldn’t help the way customers and colleagues treated me. I had (and still have) absolutely no power over any of these things.
I do, however, have absolute power over my reactions.
I can choose whether to stay in bed and cry and wreck my very nice overpriced (but oh so with it)
