"Like I Ain't" -Tech9

The human brain is a wild thing, isn't it? Mine for sure is.

I recently started a new job and, let me be the first to tell you, it has certainly thrown my very own operating system for a loop.

My brain is strong. Not always in the ways I want it to be, though. Sometimes it talks shit to me against my will and it's very smart, so when it does that, it truly makes some valid points. At least that's what it wants me to think.

Outside of starting this new job, which may I also clarify was entirely my choice as I am blessed to have the opportunity, my brain also loves to ridicule and critique me on my life in general - motherhood, wifehood, daughterhood, friendhood, humanhood - you name the hood and I promise you this big ball of gray matter in my skull could and has let me know I am not meeting perfection.

Last week, I found myself in what we in the (mentally imbalanced) industry would describe as a "spiral." If you've never been here, I'm honestly happy for you. Also I don't believe you. Well, more I don't want to believe you because misery loves company. I digress.

I was spiraling, as one does. I was overanalyzing the task(s) at hand and feeling like I'd oversold my skills. I've been here before. It's not unfamiliar, not professionally or personally. It's not entirely rare for me to fear I've sold people on a version of myself that doesn't exist.

Why am I telling you this? Two reasons: 1) you're my diary and I promised myself I'd be transparent, and I do nothing if not keep my own promises, and 2) I am in a senior leadership position and I wish people at my level and higher were honest about the humanity we all experience, and so I'll go ahead and put my hat in the ring.

Now, my spiral was not (never is) isolated to just one shortcoming. No, God forbid I feel like shit about one area of my life. I go big. What can I say?

So there I sat, on a random weeknight, no real difference in it and all others, and I was just drowning in negative self talk. It went a little something like this: What if I signed up for too much? What if I'm not capable? What if I'm incapable? Fuck, that's contagious, isn't it? I don't have the skills I tell myself I do. I'm not the person I think I am. Not the leader, not the mother, not the wife, daughter, friend I exhibit outwardly. What if I'm just that convincing? What if I've convinced myself and everyone else of a facade?

That's the light version. I said I'd be transparent, not translucent.

There I sat, spiraling, drowning, gasping for air whilst emotionally waterboarding myself.

For context for what comes next: lately I have been intentionally thinking positive thoughts. I have been praying and practicing gratitude (albeit often internally) every night when I am falling asleep. I think about truly how privileged and blessed I am. How much I get to love and how much I am loved. How I have a roof and then some over my head. How my husband is in our bed beside me; how our two dogs who know nothing of strife sleep in our air conditioned living room. How our boys sleep upstairs, blissfully unaware of this world, only knowing the good - only knowing full bellies, laughter (mostly), hearing "I love you" more times a day than most. How we are all as healthy as this chapter of our lives allows us to be. How I have respect for what I have lost in my life. How I know the people I love who are no longer on this realm are with me still. How I seem to have an angel on my shoulder and have my whole life.

This intentional thought experiment has had unexpected results. As I sat spiraling, a spiral I find comfortable regardless of it's toxicity, I suddenly hit a brick wall. I mean, something in my brain said "what the actual fuck are you talking about?" I was talking to myself like, well, like I ain't...

• Voluntarily and involuntary found myself in the deep end and swam my way out

• Stood right by my husband's side in the face of his injury. Like I ain't seen the depths of Hell on this earth and walked right over the fires

• Proven to myself and others over and over my brain works in a very different way, and that way is generally beautiful

• Intentionally focused on empathy the last few years; like I haven't gone out of my way even in the smallest of experiences to try to see someone else's point of view

• Kept my shit together even when I am overwhelmed by frustration or overstimulation 95% of the time. Like the times I let my feelings take the wheel cancel out all the rest

• Break myself to keep my family alive, safe, and happy - in that fucking order, against all odds

• Grown like one of those tiny, dehydrated dino sponges from the 90s when you put them in a sparkling glass of tap water

• Realized that life is about progress, not perfection

• Put boundaries into place to protect my peace after a lifetime of people pleasing

• Looked my own emotional scars directly in the eye and said "Go on and GIT - there's no vacancy here"

• Taught myself the skills I have that have led me to where I am professionally today. Like I ain't failed and gotten right back up - like I ain't had a choice and I chose the hard, and I excelled in the hard

• Funny. Like I ain't fun to be around. Like even when my hormones and heart fought me on who I know I am, I didn't claw my way back to the surface and take a big breath of "I know exactly who I am" fresh air

• Stepped into the unknown over and over and fucking slayed the game. Like the game was Smaug and I lived in Laketown and I had that one dragon-peircing arrow

• Grown two WHOLE PEOPLE with my God given 3D printer

• Seem some shit and smiled regardless. Like I ain't laughed through the whole show.

was a barage of (dare I say) positivity. Suddenly, and very differently than in the past, my brain disrupted my negative thoughts and basically said, "Hey. Who the actual fuck do you think you're talking to right now? Because the woman I am looking at is none of those things. So, maybe, maybe, you're wrong in the best of ways."

I'll keep growing like I haven't before. I'll keep learning in every area of my life I can. I won't keep pretending like I'm something I ain't, though.