Self-help is making me sick. Literally

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Well the last couple of weeks have been a struggle. We’re now the middle of May and I HAVE NOT BEEN DOING REJECTION THERAPY properly and I’m beating myself up over it. Shock horror –  finding ways to be rejected everyday is hard, stressful and uncomfortable. So I just haven’t been doing it. I’ve been making excuses, saying I’ll double up tomorrow or that I’m too busy with journalism work etc.

Then I did what I always do when I’m unhappy/overwhelmed: I got sick.

I’ve spent most of this week in bed with a cold, hiding from rejection and anything self-help related.

I think I’m just tired.

The four months of jumping out planes/wallowing in my bank statements/chatting up strangers has taken its toll.  The high points have been really high but it’s all quite intense.

I am spun out from waking up in the morning and thinking ‘how can I get rejected today?’, I have stopped looking at my bank accounts and telling myself my life is ‘full of abundance.’  It’s not. It’s full of debt.  As for the affirmations and belief that ‘it’s all happening perfectly’, well, that’s gone out the window too.

All the positive thinking stuff feels like deluded mumbo jumbo.

The truth is that I’ve become sick of analysing, sick of naval gazing and SICK OF SELF-HELP. I am also totally and utterly sick of myself. I am bored rigid by thinking and writing about myself. I worry that all this me, me, me stuff is making me into a bad, selfish, self-indulgent, self-obsessed person.

I poured out all this to my best friends Grainne and Sharon last weekend. They were lovely. Given that Grainne has a four month old baby it was a miracle she didn’t give me a slap and tell me to get a grip – instead they both said that it wasn’t surprising I was burnt out and that I just needed a few days off. So that’s what this week was.

I stayed in bed on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday nursing my cold and feeling a bit sorry for myself, then yesterday I got up and got my hair done. I know, I know, the new fiscally wise me should not get a hair done but sod it, I needed it. My grey hairs are now a lovely shade a strawberry. I also bought an expensive concealer.

Needless to say I woke up at 3am fretting about not being able to afford the splurge and fretting about everything actually. This is the first time since the project started where I’m honestly thinking ‘What the hell am I doing?’. Right now it all seems very random.

This little blip will pass, I know it will. Today the sun is shining and I’ve decided to let myself off the hook. I’ll keep going with rejection therapy until the end of the month and then in June I’m going to have fun with something called ‘F**ck It therapy’.

For those who don’t know ‘F**ck It’, it’s a very English – i.e. sweary, irreverent – approach to self-help. Ad man John Parkin came up with the concept when he realised that uttering the phrase ‘F**ck it’ was the Western expression of the Eastern philosophy of acceptance and letting go. He’s written books about it and built a whole philosophy around it. They also have a week long ‘F**k It’ retreat in Italy where presumably you swear and eat mozzarella all day. It sounds like exactly what I need. So I’ve just booked flights this second and this is where I’ll be in a month’s time:

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It means I’m a month behind schedule but hey ho, I don’t think the world will end and sometimes you just have to say ‘F**k It’.

And yes, the flights have gone on the credit card. Once again: ‘F**k it’…


If you’d like to find out more about ‘F**k It Therapy’ check out:


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