Workpost 38: Time Off

Byjack

Today I feel mentally and physically drained. I went to bed at 3 AM last night. I feel defeated, anxious, and sad about my relationship. I keep asking myself what it means to own a startup, what it means to be in charge. I think what it means is to be able to take a day off if you need to.

Let’s take a look at some of the different areas of my life right now:

STARTUP

  1. I’m disappointed in both the effectiveness and efficiency with customer projects as well as the level of sales outreach.
  2. I feel disconnected from my partner with quite a bit of friction, feeling that there is always a barrier to do what I want to do.

What might be the next steps?

  1. Identify areas my partner is strong in to involve him more on things I need help with
  2. Identify areas I feel strongly I should lead and take more leadership in that area

LIFE

  1. I’m a bit stagnated on my todo list
  2. My life systems for food and exersise are seeing big wins
  3. Huge desire to get more sleep

What might be my next steps?

  1. Fallout during the day only for leveling up people
  2. Netflix and long fallout sessions at night in bed
  3. To do list cleaning/grooming on fridays

COACHING

  1. I’ve stopped completely
  2. Undecided on whether to work on my own art projects or continue coaching
  3. I want to work on my youtube channel and an art group

What might be my next steps?

  1. Finish artist interview challenge
  2. Outreach for potential clients

RELATIONSHIP

  1. I feel misunderstood a lot, mismatching values, too much physical distance
  2. I love my girlfriend very much

What might be next steps?

  1. Journal more on the painful feelings
  2. Use them to grow and understand myself better

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Workpost 76: Feeling scattered

Byjack

I have so many things I sorta want to work on but I feel scattered. Part of the problem is that these new glasses are making me dizzy and I don’t really like them very much.

Here are some of my options:

  • Figure out how to talk to retirement homes about art coaching
  • Create art coaching website
  • Write about social anxiety and process
  • Process feelings of being a failure
  • Improve vision
  • Get better at video editing
  • Work on my art
  • Work on my music
  • Improve my bloating
  • Work on my sleep
  • Work on my digestion
  • Work on skool games

I feel lost and I just gravitate towards anything that has some level of an answer for me.

I feel that maybe there one answer to a lot of things. I strongly believe my bloating is due to stress. And while there are many ways to work on stress, I feel breathing might be one of the most powerful ways to manage stress.

If I focus on breathing, I can also focus on singing as it involves breathwork. I also believe it will make a big difference in my digestion and maybe even social anxiety.

So what if I focus on breathing for stress, bloating, anxiety, and singing. What if I make a video about it, hitting another area as well. What video format do I want to follow?

I think I’ll keep it simple, and follow Beau Miles, one of my favorites.

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The Cavern Inside My Heart

Byjack
The Cavern Inside My Heart

I think I love her more now

I think about her

And I feel warm inside

But when I ask for the things I need

And they are met with derisive laughter

Blame

And defiance

I feel angry

That the girl

I knew was the one for me

Is gone

And left a girl who only knows about fairness

When a relationship isn’t about

Counting things

But about giving

Feeling safe

Listening

Talking on the phone

Holding hands

Being intimate

A relationship is about risk

Not about playing it safe

And my rage like a burning wildfire

Sweeps towards her friend

All that they broke together

And she takes the ruined pieces and proclaims

I am responsible

Dares to deny me

What I want

My love for her burns equally bright

And smells of rosewater

Whispered promises at night

The trust we created

How I imagine it feels to cuddle with her

Under the blankets

I miss her

Like a great big hole has opened in my chest

And I cannot close it

Because no matter how many times I ask

There is another thing

Another game

Another reason

Why she cannot call

I feel abandoned

And I don’t want to be alone

But I feel guilt when I talk to other women

I don’t want them

I only want her

If only

She would offer herself to me

Fully

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Workpost 14: Tired

Byjack

I am worrying about a couple of things. First of all, I went to bed at 2AM again. This is becoming a pattern that I need to address ASAP.

Thinking about what I need via connection theory here is what I came up with:

  1. I need to be able to let go of not being productive during the day. It is hard, but I need to be able to say, I accept where I got to today.
  2. I need some way to process that pain and any anxiety from the day. Connection theory is telling me to yell and scream or hyperventilate.
  3. I need to get into bed at the proper time but again, like last time, I can intice myself with being able to use my phone while in bed.

Also, I feel linked to this is my anxiety around work.

My initial thought is to stop “trying” and pushing harder against a problem, rather everytime I hit an issue, write down all of the questions I have, then work out those problems outside my apartment, walking or going to the gym.

Connection theory is telling me drawing might help as well.

Overall, I feel like total shit and I feel the lack of sleep is taking a toll on my digestion. I hope to relax enough to take a nap and get back into working order.

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Water In the Basement

Byjack
Water in the Basement

There was water in the basement today

My mom handed me a garbage bag

To throw away things

That we couldn’t wash

The saddest thing

Was a cardboard sculpture of myself

Because I knew

It was sodden and sad

Paper hair plastered on the side

Like a sad version of a bad hair day

I remembered when it was new

When my art professor told us about Chris Gilmour

The sculptor who used cardboard instead of stone

Intricate cars and motorcyles

Precisely detailed in warm brown

And gave us the assignment to create a sculpture of ourselves

But my sculpture

Wasn’t like Gilmour’s at all

It was all messy cardboard

Hot glued together

It didn’t look like me

But it felt like me

When I looked into the eyes

I remembered the way I felt

My mind was all stars and night and imagination

Some part of me

Is afraid to let it go

It’s a familiar sad feeling

Like what I felt when I let go of the girl I loved

Only

This time

The person I’m letting go of

Is the person

Who made the sculpture

Years ago

When I look at this sculpture that I made in wood and mixed media class, I remember what I felt in college. So young and full of promise. That I could be anything, do anything. That I didn’t have to think about the rest of my life. Part of me always wants to go back. And it is hard to admit that that part of my life is over.

I think about this when I wait for nighttime. It is nighttime when I will see how things are going to unfold. I hope she will show me her vulnerable side, her emotional side again. The parts of her that I knew I needed in my life when I first met her. But I know, I cannot force her to be that person for me. That there is a possibility, that she won’t. That she will be closed and I’m so sad that I may have to say goodbye to the person I was when I was in love with her.

Matches 4: To do list

Byjack

Today the matches were a bit different. I focused on checking off major things I wanted to work on in my to do list for my own life.

Match 1

Reflections:

  1. My warmup was entirely physical. Nothing was mental. Hard to understand what is the most effective warmup, but I feel like I’m going in the right direction.

Result Calculation:

  1. How much closer does this work get to me to where I want to be? This work gets me significantly closer to where I need to be, not only just for my meeting with a mentor tomorrow, but also because it helps me get back into the coaching business.
  2. How did I perform mentally (efficiency, depth, speed) from 1-10? I’d say my performance was maybe a 6. High efficiency, middling depth and speed.
  3. What percentile do I place this work in terms of innovation? 5%. Not very innovative, business as usual.
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My Heart Is In the Back of My Throat

Byjack
My Heart Is In The Back of My Throat

And it hurts

Like fucking hell

When I think she says

I need autotune

And a backing track

That everyone who told me I was a good singer

Was probably being nice

Probably joking

And laughed when I told her that I try not to sing around girls I like

Because they always seem to like me afterward, and I don’t know if they actually like me

Or my singing

I’m livid

The subtext is clear

That I’m stupid or naive

Too wrapped up in my own head I can’t hear my own recordings properly

That I’m somehow terrible despite all evidence to the contrary

I can’t tell if she is tone deaf

Or just has such a low opinion of me, she assumes I’m bad

Or simply has an extremely high bar for singers

She can’t see any of the beauty that most people see

She doesn’t get that look

That I see in people’s eyes when I sing

That focus

Like I’ve completely captured their attention

She’s not like the mean girl in class

Who smiled at me and said hi for the first time after I sang

Or the blonde girl on the bench

Who started talking to me

After she heard me sing

She wasn’t all the people who told me that they wished they knew how to sing

She’s like the girl at work

Closed off

Sitting at her desk

Grumpy

Always with headphones on

Or my friend’s ex boyfriend

Who was probably jealous

He couldn’t sing

Because he thought I was annoying

Even though my friend thought I was cool

She tells me

There is only one person

Who she liked when they sang

A girl who was her old friend

I wonder why

She is able to see the beauty in her friend’s voice

But unable to even stop herself from shutting me out

When I sing

Because out of all the people

Who I wanted to share this beautiful thing with

The one I wanted to pour my heart out to

The one I wanted to look at me in that way

When I sang

Focused

Entranced

Like in a spell

Was her

And my heart is telling me

She will never get it

She will never hear my voice for what it is