Getting back up on that bronc
Funny how fallin' feels like flyin' For a little while. . .
This will be very shocking to you all, but I was not an active child. As soon as I learned to run I immediately despised it. Our street was without sidewalks and bedeviled by speeders—the worst offenders being the Euless police officers who used Ridgecrest Drive as a private shortcut between North and South Euless, so I bicycled infrequently. I was even held back more than once in swimming lessons.
I never did learn that sidestroke.
I was so bad at soccer that I was allowed to quit after only one season. I hated playing fullback so much—there was literally nothing to do for long stretches as the good players fought for the midfield, and I would be in an ADHD trance the whole game. The only thing I could concentrate on was getting my post game Gatorade allotment.
You can keep your room temperature orange slices, Karen.
In tee ball and baseball I was a dedicated right field grass puller/dirt mound kicker. I never paid attention to what was going on in any game, and always had to be told it was our turn to bat. I could not catch, throw, or run bases—I skipped along the base paths on the rare occasions that my flailing arms connected bat to ball. Baseball was the sport where I had the most promise athletically. And I was awful.
I was both of these kids at once.
I enjoyed playing football more because there was more to do than stand in the grass kicking gopher holes waiting for the rare lefty like myself to hit into right field. That said, I was really bad at football too. Constantly being called offside or for encroaching.
I have this call memorized.
Constantly missing the whistle, not following the ball, running slowly, not being aggressive enough on the line, you name any football component; I was terrible at it.
Active things I did like as a kid were climbing things. My little chonky self would try to climb slides, walls, trees, fences, ladders, the posts that led to the roof of my house, the swings and swing set—anything and everything. And what did I love doing once I climbed on top of something? Jumping. I was such a fraidy cat of an inside kid, but I would fearlessly jump off of things all recess long, preferably while holding a stick that looked like a lightsaber. For a nanosecond after jumping I would feel like I was flying. I miss that feeling. My childhood ended the day I stopped climbing random shit and fearlessly flinging myself off of it.
What I wouldn’t give to do this again without fear.
What does this have to do with this newsletter?
Time for this Bronc to climb back up on the bronc and try my challenges again. Tomorrow I am dedicating myself to playing guitar again. I will also begin making a schedule to restart my other challenges.
A couple of months ago I had a bunch of people unsubscribe from my newsletter and a couple of readers write kind of condescending emails that made me feel really rejected. I took it all incredibly personally to the point where it caused me physical pain. Obviously, the vast amount people have been positive and uplifting, kind and understanding—just great really. What I now know what is Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria combined with a long, low trough in my bipolar cycle really started to take away my joy in life, and my motivation to continue my challenges. Then I became embarrassed to write about those feelings, which started a whole new shame spiral.
Funny how fallin’ feels like flyin’ for a little while. Indeed it does.
So I stopped for a while. This feeling of overstimulation then relief when the source of stimulus is removed—“I don’t have to do this! Nobody is the boss of me” etc. is Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria in action. Click on the link below to learn more about it. It’s pretty new to me as well. Let’s learn together.
When I stopped working on the challenges for a few weeks or writing this blog, I had a feeling of elation. I was free from rejection for a short time.
It felt like flying. It really did.
Thank you, as always, for reading.
Drop me a line: jeremydnichols@gmail.com
Follow me on Twitter: @jeremydnichols
Follow me on Instagram: @germynickels
My PayPal: paypal for Jeremy Nichols
Discord server: COMING SOON