Thought of the Day

The Dangers of Drinking One’s Own Kool-Aid

I’m not sure if I come across this way to people, but I have a ridiculous amount of confidence in things I do. I wasn’t always like this and there are times I still get nervous (performing in public still gets me from time to time), but for the most part I’m absurdly sure of myself. I just don’t feel a need to be vocal about it.

Er, though it seems I’m violating that mindset right now. Trust me, there’s a point to this.

As much I feel everyone should have this mindset about themselves (we’re all equal after all) I had a nice little reminder this year of what happens when you drink your own Kool-Aid too much.

Reality’s always there to keep that ego in check as long as you’re willing to listen.

When I was younger, I was awkward as all hell when it came to the opposite sex. Whatever the opposite of game is, I had that.

And perhaps too much Axe body spray. But then again, any Axe body spray is too much Axe body spray.

Anyway, during college I went out night after night to various clubs and lounges and repeatedly dealt with failure. Until one night I didn’t fail. I’m assuming the poor girl had whatever condition makes people immune to drug store over-the-counter fragrances for men. Or maybe the commercials were right all along. I’ll let you be the judge.

I felt like the em effin’ man that night. I got a dance, a phone number, and most of all, confidence. As time moved on I realized the only thing causing me to fail at anything as much as I did was me. I honestly believe I can do anything if I put my mind to it. For the most part, I already have. And I’m very aware of the times I didn’t put my mind into it and I got crap results. I know when I can do better.

I eventually became very comfortable in my own skin. I became more successful in my career and advanced quickly. Self-belief carried me far, and achieving my goals were often easier than I anticipated. That Kool-Aid was sinfully delicious, but it never got to the level of true cockiness because I’m extremely critical of myself and I always listen to the feedback and lessons of others (even when I disagree).

This summer, I had ambitious goals for several projects I’m working on. I spent hours grinding away and dealt with various setbacks, but I was proud of my work nonetheless. I shouted into the heartless void of the internet and shouted, “Hey, everyone! Look at all the cool things I’m doing!”

The internet replied with.. a few likes and shares. Looks like Dre is back at the club.

Failure didn’t hit me this hard in a long time. It wasn’t like I was giving up. No, I responded more like a child who wasn’t getting attention; I essentially got all pissy and complained that the internet doesn’t care about creativity and positivity. Adult temper tantrums are a sad sight, no?

It took me a while to recover from this reintroduction to failure, but recover I did. I’m a person who relies heavily on momentum so, unfortunately,  this failure spawned a few months of limited activity. Such is life. Getting back on that horse is good and all, but I’m glad to have gotten enough of a jolt to put my Kool-Aid down. Drinking too much of it made me soft. It made me forget that I am the best at nothing, but I always have the potential to be better than what I am right now.

Look at me; I got myself back into writing by writing about what delayed my return to writing. This has been both therapeutic and meta.

Peace out, party people.

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