They’re etched across the eye inside my mind,
Like an ugly smear that swipes across my life.
Those words are harsh and burn through skin,
No matter how they’re meant to sit.
I had a feedback session for my formal observation today. I think it went OK. I think.
And the reason I’m not so sure is because we started with the things I did well before moving onto the things that I need to work on. So, of course, I left the meeting with all of my flaws ringing in my ears; the good bits all but forgotten.
I know that this is something that a lot of people suffer with but I take it to a new level. When I was having therapy my counselor said something really nice about me and when she asked me what it was she had said just two minutes later, I had no idea what it was.
I was aware that she had said something kind but all that was rumbling through my brain was the bad stuff. It was a though my mind couldn’t hold onto the good stuff; it just didn’t compute.
I am better, and at least I know what I’m doing to myself these days. It still takes me a hell of a lot of brain power to tell myself that there were some positives in there. I even needed to get my dad to read my feedback form to see if he could spot good stuff in there because all I could see was the bad.
It’s kind of sad and when I saw what I was doing in therapy it actually brought me to tears to see that I was so horrible to myself. So tonight, I’m going to spend some time going through everything that I do well so that I can remember that I have talents and I’m not a pathetic loser.
I’ve managed to get this far so I can’t be that bad, can I?
5 thoughts on “i only know how to focus on the bad comments”
Sounds to me, Rachel, that you could teach the observer a thing or two – about structure, about people! x
lol, I wish! x
I went through a similar “exercise” um, 2 decades ago. I made a list of everything I thought I could do ok (not exceptionally well, just passable) Then when a friend came round that evening I asked her to read it. By the time she’d finished I had no nails left. But she added in several things I hadn’t thought of. My dancing. My sense of humour. My listening ear. The fact I could roll a good spliff (don’t laugh, it counts). I’ve still got that list, though I haven’t looked at it for years.
You might like to try something similar. Maybe get a friend or your father to add those things you’ve missed
That’s such a lovely idea. I imagine we all miss so much that’s good about ourselves.
We do. We take for granted and cast blind eyes to it. We notice more about others than we do about ourselves