Katie Regan

Writer. Editor. Explorer. Creator.

Tag: Coping

Impostor Syndrome is my Boyfriend

July 3, 2018 / / 8 Comments

…but the kind of boyfriend that won’t leave you alone, is scared of your success, and gaslights you all the time.

Boo has Impostor Syndrome

I feel ya, Boo

We all have our demons, our imperfections, the things we can’t hide from. I think of those comics about depression with the cloud, or the dark blob, or whatever it is consistently hulking over the protagonist. Even in times of mirth, it lurks in the corner. I am fortunate enough to only suffer from situational depression, so that is not my reality. But, I have my own hulking cloud(s).

Depression Comic

Like this, but different (click for more)

Impostor Syndrome has been getting in my way for the majority of my life, though I only learned the name for it a few years ago. As we all know, there is comfort in knowing you’re not alone in something, in putting a name to it.

In order to do what I need to do (truly attempt to succeed, for those not keeping up), I need to chase away Impostor Syndrome. In order to do that, I am going to have to become self-indulgent (or more so than I already am). I have to self-promote. This makes me VERY uncomfortable. Who am I to think I am funny, or clever, or that I can create something of value? What if I promote something and it’s not as good as I think it is? What if I make no one laugh? Or think? Death.

Look guys, I apologize in advance if I’m not funny, or if what I have to say is trite, or if I can’t write. It’s okay if you think so. It’s okay if you roll your eyes every time you see a post from me. Just, please, keep it to yourself. Hide my feed, whatever you need to do (unless MAYBE what you have to say is incredibly constructive, then, I am interested). This is important because no matter what, I have to start ACTING like I believe that the shit I’m producing is worthwhile to someone, regardless of whether or not it actually is. Fake it ‘til you make it, right? If I keep believing and pretending, then it’s bound to eventually become true, right? RIGHT?

I have this subset of people in my life: a collection of friends, and family, and family friends who are really excellent cheerleaders. People who believe that I have talent, that I do good work, that I have great successes ahead of me. These people are beyond valuable. Whether they truly see something special or are just heavily biased by knowing me, I don’t care. These are the voices I need to listen to at this moment in my life. These are the voices I need to cling to, to try to drown out the voices of self-doubt that come with being an experiencer of Impostor Syndrome… and, to a degree, human. 

A brief flare-up

Last week, I made my public Instagram and Facebook page. At first, after I created the Insta I was feeling great, productive. Yea, I did a thing! But as the day wore on, I started feeling a bit anxious and doubtful. This ramped up considerably after I “shared” these with my network of friends. Who am I to think anyone’s interested? My writing is probably super mediocre and my photo-taking skills are lazy at best and certainly leave something to be desired.

Why does something like this, that should make me feel good, bring me down? I’m counting “likes,” and “follows,” taking each one that is missing personally. People are bored of my shit, they don’t want to read it or see it. I’ll never make it anywhere as long as I’m putting out content like this. And forget about the aesthetics of my website, Geocities called, they want their web design portfolio back. Ah, the things we say to try to talk ourselves out of risking the truly great rewards.

Rejection PTSD: When a generic rejection letter sends you spinning

I’ve gotta say, I spent many months not applying for nearly any opportunities because I was working on making and executing plans. Sure, there were a lot of times I labored over decisions and maybe doubted this or that choice, but in general, since I made the decision to make a move, my confidence has come roaring back. Perhaps this spike in confidence is because of the hiatus I took from putting myself out there, allowing myself to want, to seek (approval). 

In the past month or so, I have started applying to things and submitting writing to contests again because momma needs income, you know? Last month, I applied to a freelance gig that I was 100% qualified for. It was writing content for English Language Learning software. My original intent was to share the actual rejection letter with you, but it appears I deleted it rapidly to get it out of my face. But, fear not! I have this newer form letter that I received just last week:

Rejection Letter

They’re all the same, but they all sting a bit

These knock me down. I can’t help it. All the familiar feelings and doubts come flooding back. If I can’t land THIS gig, how will I land any others that may be more of a reach? The first letter (which I can’t find) very specifically said that my experience and qualifications do not match… but they do. I KNOW they do.

How easily something so simple can infiltrate your psyche. It gave me flashbacks… so many times I applied to this or that opportunity in Denver and got nothing back. How many times have I  been brushed aside or not considered? No bueno. It’s so so hard not to internalize this, especially after so many years of fielding various rejections or pure oversights.  

But, what actions can I take?

I know that perhaps my presentation could be a little better. This is a totally different presentation format than I’m used to. I’ve reached out to the appropriate people and asked advice. Perhaps I need to do a little more. I’ll hire someone to help me with the web design of my online portfolio, because it is something I struggle with, and apparently no one wants to dig through a Dropbox file. I’ll reach out to a couple of people via LinkedIn for advice on resume structure and pitch wording. It would be so easy to let this sink me because upon receiving these rejections, I immediately wanted to walk into the sea.

Oh, I still can’t get a job, it’s still completely hopeless. Nothing has changed.

But they were only a couple of gigs. Some with very unfortunately worded and triggering form letters. There will be others.

In the meantime, I will continue to create on my own terms. Maybe I’m not meant to create content for others, maybe there’s something else in store. Time will tell. Even if it’s not perfect, at least I’m still creating, right?

Dangers of seeking (or expecting) perfection

That reminds me. A reason I so rarely finish my own creative projects is that they aren’t perfect. It’s a symptom of this Impostor Syndrome; not wanting to put anything into the world that’s less than perfect, so instead, I put out nothing at all. This is one hurdle I am really trying to get over, especially with this blog and my social media. I had to really push myself to not wait for the perfect design or the perfect handle or the perfect anything. I knew I needed to start creating, regardless of perfection. As I continue to move forward, I will continue to learn and improve. It will get better. Doesn’t necessarily stop me from itching when I see this imperfect design or this imperfect blog structure, but I must push through! 

I would love to hear others’ stories of how they got over this debilitating mindset. For a while, I thought I had surmounted it. I was moving and doing and being! Can’t hold ME back. I ran out of fucks to give. But, they have started to crawl back. Get out of here, little fucks, I have no time for you.

Give no fucks! Be happy!

 

A couple more links about Impostor Syndrome:

Upon Leaving Colorado

June 9, 2018 / / 0 Comments

I sold my stuff, I left Denver… and it felt weird.  Brief reflections upon leaving what was my home for the past 7 years.

Colorado Rockies

Appreciating what Colorado has to offer

Boy, this feels weird. What has been my life for the past nearly 7 years is no longer. I keep having flashes, most of them mundane. A walk around my neighborhood. The inside of a friend’s house. Old hobbies and habits that have been broken. Old belongings that were always just there that are gone now. Mountain treks and favorite little haunts. It’s a very surreal feeling. I spent my time at DIA in a bit of a fog, feeling hungry and nauseous all at once. I miss my people. I miss my life. I know my new life is going to be awesome (or at the very least strange and different), and it’s something I’ve wanted for a really long time. But right now, a part of me mourns the life I’ve left behind. Like, a Santiago’s burrito would be really great right now.

At least the mountains showed up for me on my last day. They rose majestically to the west as we made our way to the airport. Snow-capped and friendly, reminding me that they, too, would still be there if and when I decide to come back to town.

I get really sentimental about change, I guess. I always have. Leaving my first Denver apartment, I was flooded with emotion. At 8th grade graduation, I was the awkward kid sobbing on stage as we performed the choral rendition of “We’ve Only Just Begun.” Despite the fact that we were all going to the same high school, I was feeling sentimental about times past. The memories in that particular building. I know it sounds cheesy, but it’s how my mind works when I move on from one thing to another.

Crying Graduation 90s

Sometimes, you cry unnecessarily at 8th grade graduation. Sometimes, it’s 1997 and you’re wearing a kick-ass choker.

My apartment in Denver wasn’t all that much to speak of, but it was cozy and it was mine. It was full of comfort and warm memories. In fact, some of its best memories were formed in the most recent months. The fact that that time period in my life is over feels very strange to me. That it’s not all just sitting there, waiting for me to return.

On Human Connection

June 1, 2018 / / 3 Comments

Preparing for the idea of loneliness and maintaining human connection when embarking on a solo, nomadic lifestyle.

My original intent with this blog was to publish one or two posts a week regularly, as that has been known to build and keep your reader base. Then, the impossible (but predictable) happened: I met someone. One month before I was supposed to leave, I met a human. I’m not going to go too deep into that except to say, I met a human and we connected in a way that certainly doesn’t happen for me every day, or year, or probably decade. So, I decided to prioritize. I knew that I was on the precipice of a lifestyle that, while exciting, would be filled with a lot of solitude and plane rides and chances to write. I only had a month (well, I turned it into two) to spend with this new, wonderful human and learn as much as I could about them. In addition, I was obviously also concerned with spending time with all the other pals I was preparing to leave. As a result, I now have a collection of blog posts at various states of completion that will get published a wee bit after the time when they were actually relevant to my process. That’s okay, right?

Tell me it’s okay and that readers who come to this blog later in the game won’t even know the timeline. TELL ME, because being disingenuous makes me itch.

Solitude

As a rule, you’re not alone if you have someone to take your picture.

Though that sort of connection doesn’t happen for me often, I have been known to revel in, hold onto, and some may say place too much importance on human connections in my life in general. I hold onto friends and people that are important to me. I will make all attempts to stay in touch with people, waiting for way longer to give up than most would if not reciprocated. I tend to be sad about leaving even the worst jobs because I will no longer be connected to the people I’ve come to know there. It’s just a part of who I am. I believe that these connections we make change us and better us, and I delight in getting in touch with old friends or people from my past and hearing their stories.

And while I know that I will have no problem meeting people throughout my travels, one of the first things I had to really come to terms with was how lonely this path will be, most of the time.

Bharma Barcelona

If not for meeting cool people when I travel, I never would have been brought to Bharma, the LOST-themed bar in Barcelona.

I will meet people, yes. I will likely have people to drink with or adventure with, or at least small talk with at the local bar, but I won’t have any of my solid compatriots. You know, the easy pals that you can just spend time with without expending too much effort. The people who care about your mundane stories, whose stupid stories you also like to hear. They will all be a world away. In Connecticut, or Oregon, or Colorado, for example. Fortunately for me, I have never been afraid of solitude, but sometimes you just need your people and I will simply not be in most places long enough to achieve such depth in my new relationships.

Luckily, technology prevails, for now. Keeping in touch is easier than ever, and I haven’t lived in the same places as my closest buds for nearly a decade, if not more. I’m not worried about that. It’s the in-person outlets that I’ll miss. The leisurely lunches or happy hours. The local bar where everyone really does know my name. Family, who has no choice but to love you, regardless of how much of a dink you are. They’ll still be a mere Internet away, but I need to prepare myself for this change. After all, think of all the love letters and postcards and care packages that are possible. Vintage romance!

This is okay. I accept this. I know that part of this entire plan revolves around getting me outside of my comfort zone. Lord knows that during my last months in Denver, my productivity was at an all-time low due to my feelings of comfort and happiness being at an all-time high. Instead of maintaining a rigorous schedule, I’d been focusing on and prioritizing nurturing my human connections. I think this is okay too.

Solitude on La Plata peak

Solitude is a state of mind. For example, a new friend was snapping this lonely photo.

One true positive that I haven’t fully addressed yet is the combination of my freedom in time and travel. I have free flights, I have no brick and mortar job requiring my presence. I will be able to move about and see people I wasn’t able to see much of before. On the one hand, things might get lonely. I may feel separated and adrift from my core humans. But, on the other hand, I will be able to see a wider breadth of important people on a much more regular basis.

There are many people I will miss. Unfortunately, I can’t take everyone I love everywhere with me at all times (this is actually probably for the best, I would get nothing done!). I need to have faith that the strong connections will endure and look forward to the wide variety of new weirdos that I’ll meet as I go.

April 15, 2018 / / 0 Comments

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