Super Special Freaky Wierd

Have you ever felt like you were super special freaky wierd? Like your faults and weaknesses were spectacularly worse than anyone else's in the entire human race? I have. And I'm about to out my freakiness in print.

First, though, I want to say that I'm pretty sure that every person on earth has "I suck" thoughts from time to time. We all have fears about not being good enough, not fitting in, being unworthy, or not stacking up to the expectations of our parents, teachers, supervisors, clients, God, etc. But some of us go beyond the garden variety "I'm not good enough" thoughts that plunge us into a bad mood from time to time to the deep, black hole-type thoughts like "there must be something seriously wrong with me to be this f*ed up." If left to their own devices, these thoughts produce a nasty cocktail of pessimism, bitterness, sarcasm and low self-esteem.

Sometimes, there's one shameful "thing"--a habit or pattern--that provides a way to dissociate from those dark thoughts, even temporarily. My super special freaky wierd "thing" was a habit of picking my skin. It started at around five years old, when I would scratch the heck out of my mosquito bites. During puberty, as you can probably imagine, it reached a feverish pitch, and my fingers would dig at any real or perceived blemish. I kept thinking my skin would improve as I aged, but the habit continued unabated long into adulthood. I came to realize, of course, that it was not my skin's fault that I couldn't seem to leave it alone.

I searched the internet for solutions. I went to therapy. I changed my diet. I tried hypnosis. I did yoga and meditation. I wondered what was wrong with me that I had this shameful habit that I could not stop. I remember thinking that it would have been better to have a more socially acceptable vice, like overeating or alcoholism. At least there are support groups and 12-step programs for those.

Sometimes I wouldn't go out because I didn't want anyone to see how bad my skin was. I spent an inordinate amount of time ruminating about how terrible I looked and what people would think. The worst part is that the habit confirmed my worst fears about myself, and it kept me isolated, hidden, and stuck in a vicious, self-defeating cycle.

I am happy to report that I have finally come out of the loop. I have ended my battle with myself and have stopped literally picking myself apart. And having come through that particular challenge to the sweet taste of freedom on the other side, I am here to share that healing and transformation are possible and completely within reach.

In her coach training program, Martha Beck places great emphasis on being TAO, which stands for Transparent, Authentic, and Open. This means facing the truth about ourselves and being willing to share that truth with others on a deep and authentic level. It means keeping nothing hidden from view. It is about being fully honest about who we are and what we bring to the table. It means being willing to be admit when we're wrong or stuck so we can come back to our authentic selves instead of striving for perfection or pretending we have all the answers. It also means being vulnerable, especially if it helps someone else on the path.

The Tao also refers to "the way," from the first chapter of the Tao Te Ching: "Beyond the gate of experience flows the Way, Which is ever greater and more subtle than the world."

Today my TAO, or that which flows beyond the gate of experience, is to share this post with an open heart, overriding a strong urge to be glib and diminish how traumatized I have been by my struggle. I've spent more time thinking about this subject than almost any other, so I would be hiding the truth of who I am if I didn't share it.