Unsatisfied

It’s been 90 days since I started this blog, and I feel good. I’ve been consistently spending every night for the past 90 days dusting off my word processor and typing away until I’ve written an entry I’m happy with. Sometimes my editorial side tells me to keep improving what I’ve written, that this sentence here doesn’t flow or sound right, so I rewrite it until I’m happy. But then there’s the lazier side of me that just regurgitates an entry and calls it a night. I’ve been consistently writing every night but I haven’t been consistently hitting that level of quality I know I can achieve. Am I being hard on myself? Maybe. But that’s the only way I know how to not be complacent and be more motivated to be better.

One area I know I’m being hard on myself is my body. I’m going to get real personal now, so if you’re weirded out by that, run away now. For the past week, ever since I started Insanity: the Asylum volume 2 on Monday, I’ve noticed my body getting harder. My biceps are harder, my chest is harder, and my abs are harder. I’ve never been in this good of shape before in my life, so this is all new to me. It’s my abs, though, that I’m more hard on myself than I should be. I still don’t have a visible six pack because I still have some belly fat around my waist, and those lower abs are tough as hell to work out. But the top half of my potential eight pack is visible, and that’s the part I keep feeling and checking out. I should be happy that I have that, but I feel unaccomplished. It feels like I made it half way to my goal, and I should not be happy with that. I should be happy by achieving my goals. I never looked better in my life and yet I’m still unsatisfied.

If I ever accomplish all my goals, if I look the way I want to look, if I write the way I want to write, if I become published and forever have a job as a writer, if I ever accomplish all of this, will I feel unsatisfied still? Will I always be reaching for the unreachable? Is there no peak to that mountain? Will I be cursed to forever roll that boulder up the hill and never ever reach the top? Or am I just thinking too much? I’ve been told I think too much. But I feel like I don’t think enough. Funny, right?

Sixty days ago I gave myself three goals I wanted to accomplish in thirty days. I never did accomplish them fully the way I thought I wanted to. Part of me forgot about that. I don’t always accomplish my goals because I’m always evolving. I’m always changing what I think I want, and then when I get it, I come up with new ways to be even better. I’m always trying to improve, and I think that blinds me sometimes from other areas of my life that I could or should be focusing on. I know family and friends who know me can tell me of a few things. But I live alone and I spend most of my time alone and all I have is me, and these are the things I think I need to be better. I don’t know. I’m happy, and I feel good, but I also feel unsatisfied. Something’s missing.