My therapist challenged me this week. Challenged me to do something and trust that it was enough.

I’m not good at that. I constantly wonder if I’m enough, if I’ve done enough. I wonder if people really trust and believe me, or if I have to prove myself to them. Prove that I’m genuine, that what I’m saying and doing and feeling is honest. Perpetually justify my existence or presence, prove that I have a right to be here and now.

He pointed out that my questioning if what I’ve done or who I am is enough is a barrier I put up against trust. Not trust in others, but trust in myself. I have to truly believe that I am and what I’m doing is honest and genuine. And then I have to let it go and trust that it will be enough. It’s enough because I know I’m being honest and genuine and true. I can’t control whether or not the other person believes me, but that’s the challenge, isn’t it? To trust that I’m enough or what I’ve done is enough, and then let it go. Stop the cycle of self-doubt and questioning in my head about what the other person may or may not think. I make myself physically ill wondering if people believe me or hate me or if I am enough or have done enough, until the self-doubt and fear is all consuming and paralyzing.

So he challenged me to stop that cycle with ONE thing this week. Just one. Not everything in my life, but one thing. Do something for someone believing that I’m enough or that what I’ve done is enough and trust that because I know it’s genuine, the other person will too.

I tried. And immediately wondered if what I’m doing was enough to be believable before I was even done.

Dammit. This shit if fucking hard.

Try again, right? Fail, fail again, fail better, right?

A friend I love and admire so much has a tattoo on her inner arm that simply says “enough” in beautiful script. For her it’s a reminder that she sees every day, when doing mundane things, big things, or even nothing. A reminder that yes, she is enough.

So I decided to write the word “enough” out on sticky notes and tack them all the places I’d see them. My bathroom mirror. The door to the fridge. On the wall behind the kitchen sink. The wall by the dog leash hook. Above the screen on my laptop. Challenged myself to believe it. I was enough. I did enough.

I am enough.

And I tried again to do one thing, trust that it was enough for the person/people to believe me because I know it’s honest and true and genuine, and let it go. It didn’t have to be perfect or a big grand thing for it to be believable. It just had to be honest and genuine. That was enough.

This time, I was able to believe it and stop analyzing/thinking about it immediately. I did it, and let it go. It took until I went to bed until the self doubt cycle crept in and started up the refrain in my head questioning if it was enough to be believable. The self doubt wasn’t immediate so I count that as a victory.

Trust myself. I am enough. I did enough. 


And I did it. I let it go again. And again. And again. I trusted myself, even if it was for a split second. Or just an hour. Or a whole day.

I did enough because I was honest and did my best and I am enough.

About slmcdanold

I’m learning to laugh at myself on a daily basis. I’m a librarian (cataloger) and I love it. My job involves all things metadata related in any and all formats. I have been known to cause a ruckus when necessary (aka troublesome cataloger) and make no apologies for it. I have a passion for continuing education and teaching. I’m a newbie coder (still learning). I like to cook. I’m a fan of rugby (go Australian Wallabies!) and ice hockey (go Detroit Red Wings!). I’m car-free and bike/walk a lot. I’m learning to love running one stride at a time. I own (and love) a very mouthy cat with a punk attitude and a slightly neurotic rescue mutt.
This entry was posted in depression. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Challenged

  1. Becky says:

    Oh, Shana, you are so wonderful just as you are! however from my “ancient” perspective, after a certain age, one really does accept oneself just “enough”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s