I'm at my Mum's house for a week of respite. Cool air, no work, less chores and time out. It's been a hectic few weeks in Darwin and it's getting hotter and people are beginning to decombust, myself included. I've been overly sensitive, eating shit food and fending off a severe case of Imposter Syndrome.
I see you there, Imposter.
Wanting to find a home in my head, wanting me to raise your chicks as my own,
Like a cuckoo bird. It's your nature, your instinct.
I see you watching. I feel you nearing. I'm not afraid of you. I know you and
I'm sick of you. Telling me I'm not good enough
Whispering to me in the night like a narcissistic lover, a gaslighter, a frenemy
I know you. I know why you do it. Not to hurt, but to protect.
You don't tell lies but you twist the truth.
You want me to stay small, stay quiet, stay down.
Stay safe, don't put yourself out there.
You used to be inside of me, or so I thought
You were me and I was you, dancing with one another to the same song
Now we are apart, we are no longer one
So I see you. I wave at you. I thank you for trying to keep me safe.
But I don't need you to do that anymore.
It's a big thing for me to have separated myself from my imposter. I've had it for years, right back to being a teenager. This dread of being found out that I'm not good enough - at being me, as a partner, a parent, a writer....it's a well trodden pathway I've walked in my head. It's a nice feeling to know that we can co exist without hating one another. My shrink is working with me on self compassion, which sometimes feels completely foreign, excruciating and embarrassing. Other times it's the greatest relief, that I don't have to hate myself for learning to cope in the ways that I have. Annoying that I'm 42 years old and I feel like potentially I could have worked some of this shit out in my 20's, but hooray for late blooming. I'm getting there, I suppose.
I won the Darwin Poetry Slam last weekend, which was surprising and terrifying and delightful. I'm proud of myself but also...fuck are people going to have expectations of me now to be...good? Cue my waving at the Imposter. Not in goodbye, but a greeting - I see you. Thanks for trying to keep me safe. Don't be a bitch about it. I'll see you again over the next few weeks as I write and practice new poems for the Australian Finals?! I mean, at least I'm not alone in this. I'm grateful for that.
