I promised myself that when I started this blog it would be consistent.
I knew that sometimes life got in the way, and I wouldn’t always be able to post when I was scheduled to. I also promised myself that I would never explicitly state when my posts would be going up because in the past that has backfired on me. The last promise I made to myself was that I would try really hard to never skip a full week.
But that’s exactly what I did and I feel shitty about it.
Not because I assume my followers were absolutely devastated when I didn’t post last week. Not even because I knew it meant my viewings would go down.
Honestly, I’m upset because I feel like I always start things; I always have great ideas; I always have new goals that, realistically, are a little out of reach but I jump for them anyways. Until I don’t. Until I stop. Until things get a little too hard; until I get a little too discouraged; or until things start to get a little too real. Then I give up.
I know I’m being hard on myself.
That doesn’t always happen, and when it does, there usually is a very real reason behind it. I stopped my last blog because I wasn’t passionate about it. It was too easy to just post random things there whenever. There was no theme. There was no work. And so I “gave up” on it.
At least that’s what I told myself and everyone else. In reality, I knew I wanted something more. I kept that old blog until I had a clear indication of what I wanted to do next. Voila! Red Hot (Mess) was born.
I love this blog. I’m passionate about it. But I’m also scared that I’ll do that whole giving-up-but-not-really-giving-up thing again.
Missing my posts last week was easy.
It’s not like I really had anything to do. I was busy, but I’ve been busier.
I have tons of stuff pre-written. I could have easily spent ten minutes to fix one of those up, post it, and share it on my Facebook.
My point is, it wasn’t too hard, but I avoided it anyways.
And that scared me more than anything.
The thing that’s been at the front of my mind since Thursday was that I didn’t post. Did that mean I was giving up? This is a time where I really can’t give up on anything. Did it mean I was done with this? Was I unreliable like I’ve always feared?
As soon as I realized that I was upset because I didn’t write – I didn’t do something I love and care about – I realized that I wasn’t giving up.
Life gets in the way. Sometimes I wake up with no motivation. Somedays I wake up wanting to do so much that I do everything that’s not a real responsibility. Sometimes I don’t know what to write. Sometimes I want to write, but have nothing to say. Sometimes I know exactly what to say, but don’t want to sit down and do it.
Shit happens. We get upset. We don’t always keep the promises that we make to ourselves and to others. Sometimes it seems like everything is going wrong when we want it to go right. But we can’t beat ourselves up over it.
There’s a lot of things in my life and my personality that go against my ambitions. It’s one of the many reasons I call myself a hot mess.
But hey – my therapist told me I have confidence, so at least I have that going for me.