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Today, as I did about 10 days ago, I failed. At the same thing. That’s twice. I’m not used to failing. That may sound “braggarty” of me, but it’s true. Interestingly enough, I beat myself to a pulp (on the inside) when I feel as if I’m a failure. The key words there are “feel” and “failure”. I may have failed “at something” (an action), but I feel as if I…ME…am a failure (noun), as if my very existence is wrong. There’s been a mistake that I’ve been “hatched”!!! Put me back in. Of course, my mother and father wouldn’t like it so much.

Back to the shame…the noun indicates shame. At the very core of me, I feel shame. I feel as if I’m wrong, that who I am is wrong, and that others will judge me for it and, terror of all terrors, not like me anymore because of it. I feel worthless, nothing, nothingness, it’s just there, sitting on my chest like a huge house, like a pathetic version of the “Wicked Witch of the West”. Not only have my legs shriveled, my confidence and ego have as well.

I’ve exhausted myself with “what ifs” in the last few hours since the second round of failure. This time, however, I don’t feel as much emotion about it. I feel rather numb. I”m not sure if that’s good or bad. Usually, in times like this, I’m a sobbing mess.

And therein lies (or is it “lay”…whatever, right, get on with it) is the dilemma. Why don’t I feel worse than I do? Have I calloused my skin so much that now I feel nothing whereas before (as in before today), I was incredibly sensitive and felt everything?

I think not.

I’m numb because I am convinced that this failure has proven I am nothing, that this failure twice over defines me, that this one thing in the big, wide universe and beyond, is so vastly, ultimately significant, that it confirms my worst fears about myself. Perhaps it’s not a numb feeling but a resigned and accepting feeling.

Hopefully in the morning, I’ll feel differently, better. Until such time, at this very moment at least, I feel spun out, shredded, tossed into the bin. I’m exhausted.

Tomorrow will be new, and I hope I can see it through better eyes. None of us is all black or all white; we are endless variances of every hue between black and white. (I see that in others, but even as I write this, I’m not so sure about myself, not sure there is any grey, sure that there is only black and white, success and failure.)

Tomorrow, maybe I’ll be able to see the successes IN and BECAUSE OF my failures…even if it feels as if I’ve only ever failed twice.

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