On feeling deficient

We are all flawed. No person has every desirable trait with the best course of action easily within their grasp. We all have things we need to work on. It could be a skill or craft. I know I tend to spend a lot of time thinking about and taking tiny steps towards improving as a designer, an artist, and a musician. I will never be perfect at any of these skills and that’s kind of what’s great about art. It is a lifelong relationship and an intensely gratifying one when you get to tend to it as the garden it deserves to be. In my most desperate and lonely moments I can pick up a guitar or a pencil and create a capsule out of my anguish. It’s a gift that I’m eternally grateful for.

But today I think about the flaws that are harder to control. I have mentioned my occasional insomnia before. Tonight is such a night where my inability to rest my mind has led me to write out the swirling thoughts that are keeping me from laying my head down and dreaming. And I’m also bothered by the feeling of deficiency. I feel like less of a person because I can’t do something that is so basic and human: sleep. I’ve had this same foreboding feeling of deficiency around trust. It’s gotten better over the years. I’ve formed intimate friendships by learning to trust people outside of myself and it’s normally been immensely rewarding. But once in a while there’s a situation where trusting someone has led to emotional harm. At times like this I shrink back into myself. I overthink. I shake. The hardest thing is picking yourself back up again and reaching out your hand again, either to the same person who hurt you or an entirely new person. Lately I’ve gotten a bit better at letting the people close to me know that I’m scared about a particular situation. But admitting the deficiency is often part of the hard part. It’s hard to admit you’re not invincible. And I wish I didn’t feel that knot in my stomach every time I get hurt. It’s another reminder that I’m deficient. But in my better moments, when my mind is less clouded and afraid, I see that deficiencies aren’t entirely evil. They let the people we love know when to reach out and embrace us. Because if we were entirely self sufficient, we wouldn’t bother with connection. And that’s what we were made for, right?

Thank you for indulging in my 4 am thoughts.