The Inner Stuper or Ending Personal Stupidity

September 17, 2008 by Keli.

“You are so dumb! Worthless, in fact. No one’s gonna read that!”

“Buzz off,” I reply, without looking up. I continue writing.

“What makes you a so-called expert on stupidity? By the way, have you looked in the mirror? Is that a crevice between your brows or just a new wrinkle?”

“I said get lost! Now!” I speak more firmly this time. “I ain’t got no time for you.”

(Sometimes I slip into insufferable slang in order to really drive home a point).

Had you viewed this heated exchange, dear readers, you would have seen me, quietly sitting in front of the computer, using my best posture and thoughtfully engrossed in my writing. No, I did not run to look at myself in the mirror.

The barb-thrower was none other than yours truly. The brief, verbal wrestling match emanated from my own head: my inner negative critic and me. I usually don’t allow him to be heard, but I did for the sake of this post. This disparaging alter ego exists in many of us, excelling in planting fears and anxieties, magnifying insecurities and creating low self-esteem that makes us doubt ourselves. It’s the stuper (short, once again, for an impertinently stupid person) in each of us.

I call this vitriolic voice, Ling, thanks to a stupernatural encounter, many years ago. When I was in my early twenties, a psychic, Matilda, approached me, laughing uncontrollably. Matilda explained,

“There’s a chubby, Chinese guy standing right behind you. Ling’s so funny!”

At the time, I was standing alone. Apparently, Ling was an apparition only a psychic could appreciate. I decided to humor her. “What’s he saying?”

Matilda only continued laughing, erupting into such elongated hysterics, I gave up and walked away. But I took Ling with me. He became the personification of the nasty, disruptive voice existing in my consciousness that tries to bring me down. Ling seemed like the perfect name. Miserable, argumentative, pudgy and possibly a member of the Communist party, always greedily criticizing and complaining with his mouth full, trying to wreck havoc by relentlessly pushing me off track. Appearing whenever I felt vulnerable.

“You look fat in those pants!”

“How can I?” I reply calmly. “I weigh the same as I did in high school.”

In the early days, I let Ling do his job. My confidence was undermined. I routinely called myself an idiot, wondered how I’d ever get the job I wanted, felt I was never good enough and so forth. When I managed to get the dream job, I was paranoid that I’d lose it.

“Everyone wants your job,” Ling hissed. “Did I mention that you’re freakish to be having such a conversation?”

And so it was until one day, I decided to talk back to that irritating inner voice.

“I’m not listening to you anymore. If you’ve got something positive to share, then we’ll talk. Otherwise, farewell.”

The self criticisms didn’t go away that easily, but slowly and vigilantly, I silenced the intrusive inner commentary. I pictured my mind as a bus with me as driver and all the little denunciations as passengers, trying to take over the driver’s seat. If I let them, my bus would crash. My aim was to reduce the wretched, whining passengers until all the nasties were thrown out. So if I heard a negative thought, I’d see it as an undesirable rider and hurl him out by the seat of his baggy pants, while working on convincing the rest to proceed in a positive direction. It worked.

We owe it to ourselves to speak kindly in our minds. Our happiness and personal progress depends largely on our own efforts. We should strive harder to train our minds to think positively to develop the best in each of us.

Guard your mind.

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in My very own stupidity | 9 Comments »