My Bully Called Ms. Candoitall
There are people out there who, growing up, wanted to be a lawyer but ended up becoming a doctor, or those who wanted to take up art but ended up as data analysts, professors who became consultants with a monotonous life they hate, and so on so forth. You would hear them talking about how they sometimes regret not sticking to their dream and thinking often, what it would have been like if they were not where they are, doing what they are doing now, but were following what they actually wanted to do. Some might even go ahead and call themselves fools who squandered their dreams just because they were coward or weak. Sheh! Such negative self-talk. And then there is me. I wanted to be (still do) a dozen different things all at the same time and wanted them all equally badly. Greed. I can’t complain because I have achieved a few out of that list that I have been making since I was eleven but really, we all know I could still never become a fighter pilot now or that guy who blows up coal mines sitting in that far away deserted area with something that looks like a hand pump while skilfully popping peanuts in his mouth. Therefore, let down by myself (definitely more than that data analyst), ensuring disappointment forever.
Don’t get me wrong. I love myself fairly enough and am not one of those ‘I am the Victim’ kinds of people every time there is a plot twist. I belong to the ‘Surprise! I Survived, What’s Next’ club. However, I do like to diligently set up unrealistic goals for myself, one after the other, and then beat myself over it because I was able to meet only a few of them. I then resort to continuously putting myself down and name-calling like “Such a Loser” (top of the charts mostly), “So Blind (to not see that coming)”, “Lazy AF”, “Stupid”, and all those other things I would never say to anyone ever. Not to their faces at least!
Fine. Guilty. I am one of those negative self-talk people. But going around pointing out to ourselves everything that we do wrong or how idiotic we are, only causes distress and anxiety and we still passionately do it. I wonder why? My prime times are mostly while watching a web series or when trying to be funny with a friend, especially if they accidentally compliment me on something. I have not known the difference between modesty and self-deprecating unhealthy humor up until lately. Does this behavior need a trigger? Mostly not, it seems more like a habit. Is it hard? Not for me — I just have to count the things I wasn’t able to do and neglect the ones I did successfully finish or achieved, and that is it.
It was recently pointed out to me by more than one person that I am actually a Bully. A bully who constantly snubs and puts myself down.
Raise your hands if you practice self-deprecating talk even though you are doing the best you can and the best you really actually need🙋🏻♀️. Why do you do that? I know why I do it. I have always had the desire and believed that ‘I can do it all’ and when I am not able to do something, even as bizarre as trimming a golden Cyprus to a perfect inverted pyramid shape, then all hell breaks loose. I feel hopeless, call myself bovine, and that’s how easily bullying myself starts. I do believe though, that negative self-talk can keep us grounded, it is better than being overconfident and falling face down. It can also be a good motivator, challenges us to do better, learn more and perform more efficiently each time. But there is a very thin line before you cross over to it becoming bullying, only making you tired and actually believing that you are not good enough.
I read somewhere, that it is important to recognize when you become a bully to yourself and separate yourself from it to avoid all the negative impacts of such self-talk. Naming the bully is one way that can help separate the negative things you are saying to yourself from who you are at your core, said that article. So I identified and named mine Ms. Candoitall (read as can do it all). Ms. Candoitall is an expert at mocking me when I cannot do it all. She sets such high, mostly even unreal standards for me that I end up making myself sick, trying to do it all, or avoid sickness by giving up on a few teeny-weeny things on my way (that I think have no life-altering consequences).
However, at such times, Ms. Candoitall (that opportunistic thug) excelling at exaggeration will never fail to tell me, “Well, of course, you are such a sloth half the time is why you could not ‘do it all’. Sure you might be intelligent but clearly very irresponsible and incapable. You are going to take everyone down with you one day with that slow-moving arse of yours. You watch. Loser.” Geez! I would never speak to any living being like that. But to myself, I speak most inhumanly to start with, then believe all that nonsense, and eventually go on to tell others what an ace loser I am. Do you see the problem here or is it just me blabbering right now?
Talking to yourself like you would never talk to any other human being is an art that most of us have mastered, especially as we grow older. Making ourselves and those around us believe that we are what we really aren’t is such a fraud. We acquire and possess this skill irrespective of our gender or culture — each one of us giving another a tough competition!
Why though? Why are we always the harshest and the meanest to ourselves? What good does it really do? Like I said earlier, the brief moment till it helps us get motivated to do something, is all that we get out of it and everything beyond is a steep downhill. I am no expert at subjects of mind and body but safe to say that I have lived life enough to know it damages us more than it helps — both mentally and physically.
We like to believe we are grounded and balanced when we are constantly checking ourselves and are introspecting every action but are we really introspecting or are we practicing self-loathing by using only negative adjectives for ourselves? Making a habit out of being an asshole to ourselves, perpetually bringing our own self-esteem down, intimidating ourselves when we are at our most vulnerable, should actually be counted as a punishable offense. And why not? Think about what it will look like if you behave with someone else like that — downright disgusting. Why do we set such unreal expectations from ourselves? Why don’t we instead, cheer for ourselves at every small accomplishment, keep reminding of the good things we did, give ourselves compliments with a genuine smile and lift ourselves up as we would do for a friend?
Thanks to all the friendly interventions, I decided a few months ago, to stand up to the judgmental tyrant, Ms. Candoitall’s bullying — talking positive to myself and owning up to my love for occasional lethargy that contradicts my own gluttony for wanting to do more and more and a little more. It feels liberating, to say the least! Trust me — call out your bully, stand up to them and see for yourself how it works wonders.
Sorry, what did you say your bully’s name was again?
