I’m afraid to dream. I’m afraid to believe I have anything to offer, that anything I do is worthwhile. I get all these notions about things I want to do…………sell my photos and write a book are two of the most recent. I get really excited about it, to the point of almost obsessing, but then self doubt creeps in and I go to the other extreme. I start to believe not only that it’s impossible, but that it was incredibly arrogant of me to even consider I would be capable to doing either in the first place, never mind whether or not anyone would be interested in what I do.
Identity issues and sense of self are huge in bpd, and this is something I’m really familiar with. I’m almost 36, and I feel like I’ve yet to figure out what I want to do with my life. I look back at choices I’ve made and think how wrong they were, and then I think of what I could have done, or should have done. I think about all the things I’ve been afraid to try, and I wonder if I’ve left it too late to make something of myself. Over the years I’ve variously decided (with absolute certainty each time) that I wanted to be a teacher, a nurse or a therapist, to name but a few. Each time has felt like it was absolutely the right decision, almost as if it was my fate, but then reality would creep in and and I’d realise how ridiculous I was being.
I think I’m having a bit of an existential crisis at the moment, I feel like I don’t have a place in the world. It just seems so impossibly conceited to believe………..well, to believe in myself. Am I afraid of failing? If I don’t try I can’t fail, and then I can’t be disappointed in myself. But the flip side of that is if I don’t try I won’t ever know whether I might actually succeed.