I Hate Writing This
Elizabeth Bodine
Not to say I don’t enjoy Medium. I read and cherish Medium. I have a network. I read many writings. I follow and have followers.
But here’s the thing. I can’t stand being improved. In my daily life, my habitual habits, idiotic decisions; in all the mortifying evidence of my many imperfections, leave me alone. Improvers either directly or by implication tell me more about my deficient character than I want to know.
Take today. Friday’s Medium has recommended for me essays about: intermittent fasting (2); drinking; sobriety (6); denying our addictions; learning to managing anxiety; exercising with good results; exercising with bad results; beating depression; beating bipolar depression; how to demonstrate empathy; self-help tips for success; top-ten tasking; building a powerful mind, and generally, fatness.
Also these: life-changing habits to discard or adopt; evading mediocrity; acquiring better time management by doing what other unknown persons do; abandoning guilt; accepting guilt; and demonstrating kindness; and looking out for number one.
Also, a step-by-step directive on awareness; regulating emotions; surrendering to emotions; becoming emotionally self-sufficient; embracing our passionate selves (while regulating emotions); enjoying meditation even though you hate it; lessons to be learned from burning out; lessons to be learned from not eating sugar, and learning to enjoy doing things we don’t want to do and never will.
That’s ONE DAY and that list is hardly exhaustive. More were recommended yesterday and the day before. And they’ll keep coming.
Why so many? How did I do this to myself? How?
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I’ll tell you how. If you have, like me, signed up for some of the “topics” provided by Medium to customize accounts with specific interests, you’ve observed that authors responding to these interests produce a large number of essays seeking to assist us. These authors write well and are well-intended. And their appearances are decided by Medium’s editors. All this noise is nobody’s fault.
Maybe I’m frustrated by my organic inability to even think about improving other people. I just don’t have the right stuff.
Unfortunately, others’ efforts usually provide counsel by pointing out our failings. And worse, freely advise us about correcting them. I don’t want it. I’m old enough to take my own advice, misguided thought it may be.
My current self-customized Medium topics are these: art; books; culture; film; humor; music; true crime; tv; writing; addiction; creativity; health; mental health; lifestyle; pets; psychology; cities; history; justice; media; politics; society and women. Way too much, right?
Each, I fear, hides a doorway that once opened permits access by uninvited well-meaning counseling persons who bomb me with advice I don’t want.
But truly, I did not sign up for anything implying any need or wish for self-help, a stranger’s help, or help in any form.
I do have a sense of humor and I’m fascinated by the unorthodox. To prove these qualities, here are more unrelated but terrific pieces from today’s writings: signs a guy likes you; signs a girl likes you; valuing food stamps; Steven Seagal; proper pullup instructions; how using mouthwash may inhibit exercise; tracking your own brain waves; things we’ll hear on our ski vacations; facelifts (bad); and having a job interview at the ASPCA. I enjoy life’s nonessential pursuits.
Believe me — I feel guilty and ungrateful about this piece. I love Medium and I hate writing this, but I’m overwhelmed. This bete noir is alive and breathing and applying pressure to my brain. I’m not sure I’ll post it. I don’t want Medium to dislike me. I don’t want anyone to dislike me. I’m a regular human.
Actually, I don’t know what I want. I’m not trivial, or narrow-minded or stupid. I recognize that self-help information is valuable to many.
I just really dislike being told how to improve myself by anyone, including people writers who may or may not know what they’re talking about. They still manage to be at least somewhat insulting. Preaching, imagined superiority; posing; teaching (that’s anything with “learn” or “learning” in the title, all seems so condescending. I have no patience. I need fences in my brain. Nobody needs to worry about getting me to be a better person. No trespassing. Thanks. Really.
