Organized Chaos

There’s nothing I can’t teach myself to do.

I’m literally staring at myself in the mirror as I realize that.

I used to build my confidence like this. I danced. I practiced in front of mirrors. I paid attention to every tiny detail of myself, how I moved, what looked right, what didn’t, what I could control. And then I became self-conscious and stopped performing.

But why did I stop dancing?

Why don’t I start practicing again? Why don’t I perform again?

It doesn’t have to be for anyone else.

It can be for my fucking self.

I’m in my basement. I have the space. My bathroom is basically a fucking dance floor. I have mirrors. I have everything I need.

And God, dancing is cathartic. It’s expressive. It’s storytelling in the same way music is.

Maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to classical scores. I can’t compose music. I can’t read it. But I can fucking feel it. And when it’s done right, I can see the movement that belongs with it. You don’t even need words. The music tells the story. The movement tells the story.

It can be devastating and still be fucking beautiful.

And maybe that’s my brain too.

Organized chaos.

There is beauty in the fucking madness of my brain if I can learn how to understand it instead of constantly fighting it.

Because I can figure shit out.

That’s what fucking Google is for. That’s what all of this is for. If I don’t know something, I can learn it. If I can’t do something, I can practice it.

The problem isn’t that I’m incapable.

I’m scared of failing.

And I’m staring directly at myself in the bathroom mirror having this conversation because I know that’s true.

I am the one holding myself back.

I made the decisions that allowed me to just exist. I’m not putting that blame on anyone else. It’s me.

And maybe that’s another reason I need the mirrors again.

I used to sit in front of a mirror and have entire conversations with myself. I’d work through my emotions, every possible scenario, every possible reaction. Maybe that’s weird. And no, I definitely wasn’t mentally “in check” back then.

But maybe there’s something useful in it now.

Because I can look myself directly in the fucking eyes and call myself out.

I don’t cheat.

But I will absolutely take every shortcut I’m allowed to take.

There’s a big fucking difference.

If there is something I want to know, I’ll figure it out. If there’s something I want to learn, I’ll teach myself. If there’s something I want to become, I’ll practice until I become it.

I just have to stop doing it for everyone else.

Do it for me.

Because if I actually tried, really fucking tried, and stopped being so terrified of failing?

Oh my God.

I’d be unstoppable.