Anxiety about being ordinary

“Only the mediocre are always at their best.”  -- Jean Giraudoux

Spoiler alert: this entry is somewhat serious. So strap in.

Listen, I didn’t steal that quote from a Chicken Soup book or even a Wheaties box, but it works in its own twisted way. In fact, I wish I had heard this adage before I started shelling out $300 a session to figure out why when I analyzed where I was in my life, I suddenly found it very, very hard to breathe.  If I had heard this glass half-full philosophy a few weeks ago, maybe then I could start looking at myself as perhaps an epic winning reincarnation of that late great Charlie Sheen – oh, wait, he isn’t dead yet?

The robber baron I see on a bi-monthly basis calls it a panic attack. And the most brilliant part of this attack is that it is brought on by being utterly and completely disappointed by my ‘accomplishments’ thus far. But how paradoxical…how can being ordinary create anxiety?  How can going at something half-assed keep you up at night with worry?  

I think it comes from the fact that I live in some sort of rags-to-riches 80s movie (think ‘Big’ or ‘Secret of My Success’) where being cute, funny and having a pretty OK personality got you the job of your life – and significant other of your dreams -- before the age of 30.  Well it was a sad day when I realized that wasn’t true – not even close.  And guess what? My job may be a little shittier than most of the jobs held by friends and family...but (excuses aside) it could be a lot worse.

So, if my therapist finally gets to good part, I might one day feel like I am not having a quarter-life crisis (a phrase I hate uttering because of a one Mr. John Mayer).  But instead, the most enlightening thing he said to me was, “Do you sometimes laugh at things that aren’t funny or maybe just laugh to yourself?”

At this point I literally couldn’t do anything but laugh at that question then shoot him my “Girl, are you for real?” eyes.  I do that at LEAST twice a day.  And saying twice is grossly underestimating. I wanted to ask him, “Have you met me?” I laugh at everything…and I am the queen of inappropriate comments. In fact, today I told someone I was going to pull a Sylvia Plath when I got home (look it up).  I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why he was asking that question and, even worse, how the fuck I was going to answer it. Why yes, I do both of those things; does that mean I’m certifiable? If there is one thing that keeps me going in life, it is laughter…humor…being able to find something funny and uplifting. Now, if he is going to take that away from me, we are going to have a problem.

Well good news folks, I lied to him and told him I didn’t think so. So I am not crazy, just a little overwhelmed by being underwhelming. A feeling I am sure we have all felt at least once in our lives.  So perhaps it is just that I am an overanalyzing perfectionist or I am really failing at life, at least I can breathe now… and I still have my ability to laugh.

And to top it all off, this mediocre gal had three job interviews this week so I am just going to keep on being my best!