Thirty four years stoned . . . What's self-discipline?

Well I've spent fourteen hours cleaning out the nine hamster cages, vacuuming the carpets, mopping the tiles, changing all the bedding . . .  only taking a break now and then to do the automatic daily stuff like washing, cooking, peace-keeping, toilet seat wiping (boys!), picking up anything that's on the floor  . . . and so on. Now I can relax . . . It's ten pm. (Saturday night).

I'm at various stages of various posts, ranging from the "Archives" to more soul searching and behaviour dissecting stuff. I tend to add to whichever one I've been thinking on through the day. Today I've been thinking about all this self-discipline milarky . . . but as I began that post a few days ago and have progressed somewhat in this area, I'll start again . . . That's progress.

I'm not sure if I was ever taught about self-discipline. If I was, I didn't hear it and I somehow doubt that. As children we were disciplined, there's no doubt about that, maybe even over-disciplined . . . which could be of some relevance another day. However I wouldn't have said that I had just drifted through life doing what I wanted, now I'm not so sure. I was always employed until the kids "happened" and always worked hard at whatever I was employed to do. I didn't steal. I never dropped litter. I didn't lie. I cheated plenty . . . I never learnt to say no there, but I was I always honest about it. Yeah, yeah, so you said . . . well done. I'm coming to the conclusion that I did really do pretty much what I wanted; just that most of it was, to some extent, acceptable. Not without consequences though.

I somehow never learnt to make myself do things that I didn't particularly want to do . . . or to stop myself doing things that I did want to do. Could it be that nobody is taught this. How would I know. Do we need to teach our kids how to resist self destructing at every corner. Or just give them reason enough to not want to self-destruct. Say no to strangers. Say no to drugs . . . yeah well that should come easy enough, knowing as we do, the consequences. Should.

Maybe I lacked the "training" to stop myself. To stop and think that perhaps just wanting to do something didn't necessarily make it a good idea. No, if I felt compelled to do it then it must be what I wanted . . . so it must be right for me. Wrong. In the same way if it were suggested to me that something might be good for me that I didn't want to do it . . .  then why would I force myself to do it.

I don't always want to do the weekly shop or the cleaning, cooking and a whole list of other things but I do them . . . the necessities. And really for the most part I do enjoy doing these things so I'm hardly exercising self-discipline when I cook meal. But to go against what I wanted or didn't want to do? Well I would've seen it as not being true to myself . . . myself! (my-allfeelingnumbing,selfdestructing,dontlovemeorIwillhurtyou-self) I would've thought I was trying to be someone else. O God forbid. To change. I can't imagine why I thought that would be such a bad idea. Eh? Change?  . . . What on earth for. I'm alright, nothing wrong with me.

I don't want to go swimming or go to the gym, so I won't . . . I'm not that type of person, never will be so why try to be. It never occurred to me that half the people in the gym might be there under duress . . . I mean why would they bother if they didn't want to. They wouldn't. Wrong.

This is a drawn out way of saying that it's taken me until now to realise that I have to make myself do things and stop myself doing things to be beneficial. To be good to me. How simple is it. How simple am I. No question mark. Considering it's taken me thirty four years to discover this concept, it's perhaps not so drawn out.
So with my brand new revelation, I'm gonna give it a go . . . try it out right here.

I don't want to go and skip (jump rope) on the patio right now . . . I'll do it later. No you wont. You don't want to now and you won't want to later. Why would you. It's highly unlikely that you're gonna become the kind of person who wants to do this in the next four hours . . . or days. Years? So pick up that rope and make yourself go out right now and skip. Now. Right.

I want  . . . . (you can insert anything from a triple chocolate magnum to a bag of heroin here) so I'll have one then. Obviously. No, no, no you won't. (much shaking of head) What do you mean, No? Why wouldn't I  . . . if that's what I want. (OK, we all know many good reasons why not) Forget it, you're not having one. End of. No discussion. I said no and I mean no. Right.

I'm having to talk to myself like I talk to my five year old daughter and I thought she could be stubborn. To discipline myself in exactly the same way. Do I have no more self-discipline than a five year old?  . . . Less!? Good grief. Well given that since the age of fifteen until a few weeks ago, a total of Thirty-four years, I had not spent a day without some sort of drug/alcohol or both in my system,  I could well be fifteen . . . And whilst we're on the subject, at fifteen I was described by an English teacher as socially and emotionally retarded. He could've said quiet and sensitive . . . but he didn't. I might as well be five. Or seven . . . or eleven. Yes that would make sense.

When I named this blog "When I grow up" I actually meant "When I grow up a bit more" I didn't think I literally meant grow up from a child to an adult . . . But  that's how it feels. That's how it is.

OK then . . . that's how it is. That's fine. At least I know now and can start on this. I'm quite excited to see who I become. Who I Would've been, I Will be. Who knows what will emerge with a bit of a load of discipline and a clear mind.

*******

It's Ten pm Sunday now. Re-writing and editing. Prison visiting tomorrow, another change of prison. A right bastard to get to. Trains, buses, taxis, long walks in between and that's just the journey. Then there's the visit.
Do I want to do it? No.
Will I do it? Yes.
Why? Partly because it's not about what I want and partly . . . well, that's another post.

I'm off. This is long. But goodnight to someone in Pakistan and someone in Russia who were reading a few posts today. I love looking where people are from who are reading.
Goodnight to Nepal, that's a regular now :-)
Goodnight to you all . . . Thanks for being here.