The Imposter Syndrome Battle

I have a complex relationship with myself. On one hand, I seem to think that there isn’t anything I can’t accomplish, if I apply enough elbow grease. On the other hand, I think I’m such a lunkhead, it's a veritable miracle I can dress myself much less be considered a fully-fledged, and more or less successful, adult. I happened upon a definition of this state of mind while asking Dr. Google “ohmigod, what’s wrong with me?”. The term is imposter syndrome.

For those of you unfamiliar with this phrase, (you lucky buggers, you), it’s the enviable frame of mind that, despite gobs of evidence to the contrary, convinces you that any level of success you have achieved is either the result of pity, or blind, dumb luck. Now, my brain realizes that my self-doubt is completely invalid. Every time I challenge my Imposter Syndrome Gnome by listing out the many things I’ve done, I realize how ridiculous I’m being by the time I have five things on the list. On paper, I’m a pretty impressive person (which is an incredibly difficult thing for me to admit to). I don’t seem able to acknowledge the fact that I’ve graduated with honors in 2 advanced degrees, have a first-degree black belt, performed with a belly dance troupe, and have successfully run my own business for 10 years. I habitually fixate on the “huge” things that don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things; how much I weigh, how old I am, how much I make for a living. Logically, I feel ridiculous getting hung up on the superficial things of life. Emotionally, I feel like a hopeless piece of garbage.

Gnome crafted by S. R. Godderick | Original Artwork backdrop by ARClark

The only way I’ve ever been able to pull myself out of the rumination spiral is to challenge myself. I take a continuing education class, learn a new massage technique, force myself to sit down and write. I don’t always like the results of writing, but I do always feel better when I have moved some of the words from my head onto the medium of my choice. It’s almost as though, if I go too long without putting literal or figurative pen to paper, all my feelings clot up and make my brain boil. It’s never easy to force myself to sit down at the keyboard or pick up my journal when The Gnome has me by the throat. I sometimes have to take the smallest steps possible and promise myself that if I don’t feel better after that small step, I’ll give myself a breather. This is hard, too. I have another beast in my brain that tells me any time should be productive time. That might be the reason I crash the second I stop moving.

I hope none of you feel this pain. I hope you all move through life creating and sharing and turning a blind eye to imposter syndrome, rejection sensitivity and any of the collection of psychological pits I find myself slogging through. Then again, maybe that pain serves a purpose. Maybe a certain degree of discomfort helps to inspire the creative process, and the trick lies in channeling the vibe before it turns into a sinkhole.

Regardless of whether you do or don’t relate to my silly state, I hope you push past the desire to stay in your jammies, clinging desperately to your favorite show and comfort food, vowing to never leave the safety of your home. I hope you find a way to balance your personal needs with the urge to create and live a life of contentment. And please, if you are one of these amazing unicorns of a person, please make sure you reach out and give me some pointers.