Underachieving... Overachiever

Something was heavy on my heart last night and I couldn’t figure it out. I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to talk to Facebook about it. You know how we vaguely put it out there, and get feedback that eases you for the moment. This was a heaviness that I had to work out in-house. 

I didn’t have any liquor easily accessible to drown my sorrows with but this was an emergency! So I opened my 8-year Bacardi that I “forgot about”. The one you can only get in Puerto Rico, the one you’ve saved for a special occasion. Yeah, that bottle.

When I got that buzz (which was after the first drink, after all it was that good stuff) I got angry. Angry with myself because of all of the time I “waste” helping everyone else, other than myself. Don’t get me wrong, I love helping people. Giving advice, words of encouragement, doing consulting work and short projects for friends, for free. So why am I angry with myself?

So when I sat down to write this, I had that cry. That long, hearty, throaty cry (not too loud, Bam was asleep). I really needed to get it out.  As I cried, I realized what it was really about. I was feeling the “treadmill effect”. I kept on thinking of how lost I was feeling, how much I needed clarity and how no matter how much and how I work, I’m still getting nowhere.

Ahhh… Now we are getting down to the nitty gritty…

Or is it just that I’m really hiding behind what I do for others because I can’t face my own potential?

Without sounding totally arrogant, I already know I’m talented, so I don’t second-guess myself with that. I don’t mince words, I can give advice with the best of them.

At the end of my cry, I kept asking myself what the hell was I really waiting for? I’m not satisfied with the way my life is going. A bonafide under-achieving… over-acheiver. Mind you, I’m the one driving this vehicle. No one is making me go this way. No one else is in this car but me and Bam and he’s a six-year old that’s just content to have a window seat.

But seriously, I keep feeling like I’m running out of time. And I’ve been bullshyting while the clock is still going. Not really bullshyting, but more like avoiding the inevitable that is my destiny. Ok, I’ve been bullshyting.

The bottom-line to my outpour: It’s all in my hands. I have to stop acting like everything I deserve will all magically appear. I have to constantly keep actively working on it. No more taking on projects that take me away from what I should be doing: Taking care of my own business.

So after I take this last sip of this damn good rum (that I’m going to “hide from myself” and vow not to drink until a real good occasion comes along) I’m going to work my damnedest to finish this book that publishers are already interested in. Before they forget about me…