Self-esteem. It ain’t about the future, it ain’t about your outlook (well it is but that is informed by other things). It’s about the past. It’s about the memories. It’s about the newsreel of things that have happened and all of the things you have experienced. Self esteem, and personal demeanor. It’s about the memories that come up again, and again, over and over with every little experience, every tiny interaction. Every observation the memories playback. They ricochet. They reflect onto the current experience. They color it. Everything. And that is self esteem. Everything else is bullshit, a big pile of fucking bullshit to make you think you are the problem and not the experiences of your past, or the way people have treated you, or the way society treats people, or the way shit rolls downhill. If this wasn’t true, I would have the best self-esteem in the world not a thing would bother me. I would be happy go lucky. Except what they tell you about Self-esteem is bullshit.
For more info, read The Birth and Death of Meaning by Ernest Becker. As long as you don’t want to know too much about what is really going on.
Musings of a Hyperactive Thinker 