A Well Intentioned Pessimist

Kris said this to me the other day after reading my last post " you know, the universe is you, therefore you are the one sabotaging yourself.” What?!!?! Man did that make me annoyed, I mean the one person who is supposed to be on my side totally throws it in my face like that? He is the one always saying we’re Team Payne. Well, some teammate I got, not really looking out for me if I do say so myself. But even in my fury at my Benedict Arnold “teammate” I knew the truth. He was right. We make our own destiny. But it makes me feel better to blame the universe for the course my destiny has taken, or not taken b/c otherwise I am stuck facing the sad reality that I have somehow chosen this path my life is on. And that is extremely depressing.
After my loving husband’s thoughtful insight and after a hysterical, crying, why-me fit on the front sidewalk of our apartment I went inside that night full of thought.
I had watched Michael J Fox’s “An Incurable Optimist” that night, putting the whole walk of shame home from the mechanic behind me. However, as I watched the show a nagging feeling started to creep through me. I listened to person after person talk about keeping hopeful and feeling happy through hardship. How optimism is simply a way of life for some people no matter what cards are dealt. Wasn’t I like that too? I certainly thought so. I have always considered myself a keep-moving type of gal, a glass half-full girl. I may have a melt down or two but I pick myself up and keep on trucking. But as I sat there on the couch some flashbacks started whizzing through my brain.
For example, I took an optimism test a couple weeks ago and as I read the result proudly –“ you always look at the bright side of life” Kris said “I don’t think you answered some of those questions honestly, you want to think of yourself that way but you are not.” At the time I suggested to him that he didn’t really know me but deep down I knew he was right. Or times I have said I hate being around so and so because they are always so negative – really knowing that I am not all that different and I am certain some of my friends are probably tired of me bitching. Or when I make up random reasons for why I will not get picked for the part – “I am too tall and the men out here are too short” is an often used one.
I have come to the realization and I hate to admit this most of all, is that my husband is right. I am a self-saboteur. I am really not an optimist in the slightest when it comes to my life. I am like a cutter for Christ-sakes, slashing the razor through the skin of my destiny.
Hello, my name is Kate and I am a pessimist. There I said it, another flash of honesty for me. Another embarrassing admission. Damn.
...Though you know, as I sit here thinking, maybe I am not entirely pessimistic, I mean after all I have been trying to force myself into thinking I am a positive person and that has to count for something, right? Pretending to be an optimist is an optimistic way of trying to change your pessimistic attitude. I am simply a well-intentioned pessimist trying to make the best out of life!
See, I am already trying to change my evil ways!