Failure is painful, even when you tell yourself that if it doesn’t work out you will try again. It hurts even more when you have tried several times before at the same thing and fail once again. I have experienced a failure. It isn’t really my failure, but someone failed me. Today I am not going to talk about what the failure or disappointment was, but rather what failure and disappointment feel like.
This all happened gradually over a four month period. I took a risk and the other person didn’t do their part. But in the end, I am left trying to process a loss when I thought it was a find. It culminated the day after my husband’s doctor’s appointment where he was put on immediate disability and just a few days before his surgery. There was no time to really process it. I just moved forward trying to not even think about it.
The last few days I have been feeling a deep seated anger. Anger is not a familiar feeling to me. It is usually something we see displayed in men. It is acceptable in them. My anger is displayed as frustration at the smallest thing. I don’t have a sense that I am angry at the other person, although I am sure I am. Deep underneath it all, I am probably mostly angry at myself.
It has made it hard to return to my blog and blogging.
Failure feels like the rug has been pulled out from under you. It makes you question yourself and others in your life. It makes you wonder if you are really safe anywhere. Failure hurts.
I have been abandoned, abused, and treated cruelly too many times in my life. At the heart of isolating myself for years, has been not wanting to be hurt any more. I wanted to protect myself. I promised myself I would not ever let this happen again. That is like promising myself to never really live again.
Failure hurts! It makes you feel as though you are not worth it, not good enough. Often it leaves you wondering why you bother at all.
When I lose in one area of my life, it makes me feel as though I am losing everything everywhere else. This is not true, I know this. But it feels as though I am going to lose everything. I have to work hard at trying to catch myself because I feel as though I am just free falling.
Risking is scary because there are NEVER any guarantees. We all want guarantees and so not risking seems so much more appealing. It is the loneliest option, and it is the only option with a guarantee. A guarantee there will be no connections, no love, and consequently a false sense of no failures. Isolation is the epitome of failure because it is a failure to thrive. A guarantee of being alone. It is living the result of loving and risking and losing, you just live in it all the time without relief. It is a lie. Maybe the most cruel lie we tell ourselves because we are so afraid.
People hurt us, they disappoint us, many abuse us if they can. It is frustrating to have to risk when the odds always seem as though they are not in your favor.
When you have been abused, you seek for someone to understand your struggle and to understand everything that makes you feel as though there is something wrong with you. You want someone to let you know you are more than okay. When these very people check out on you, it is one more time you have to pick yourself up and are faced with the choice to either sink into despair, give up, or take time to process what just happened and reevaluate what your next step should be.
I have lost my grounding and I am free falling and at times just floating. Something is gone. I am disappointed and hurt and angry. I hoped for the best and ended up facing something that wasn’t even on my radar regarding how careless another person could be. There are a few basic things we can expect from certain people. I was looking out for the big things. I didn’t realize how the basic courtesies are big when they are missing. They are huge in certain situations. But they are often just a given.
I risked and lost. My gut instincts were spot on, but I questioned them. I questioned my feelings about what was happening rather than questioning the bad behavior of the other person. This dragged things out for longer than necessary. Several of the issues brought me back to familiar places of being disregarded, not important, insignificant, and not worth it. I questioned my feelings and this makes me angry with myself.
I realize that for those of us who have been abused as children, I think there is a deep, deep longing to have the innocent carefree safety and trust of being a child again. You know, that safety a child should feel, and in the right environment they do. It was taken from us and, whether consciously or unconsciously, I believe we long to feel that once again. It is a bitter reality that this experience is gone forever. There is no playing and laughing and relaxing and just having fun without a fear of losing and being hurt or abandoned. It is gone. Gone! And maybe this is what hurts the most. It is NEVER to be felt again. NEVER!!!
But we want it and barter with life and with others for it. The reality is if we risk, we risk losing! That is what the real adult world is like. I don’t like it, I don’t want it. I want to be safe with the guarantee I won’t be hurt or abandoned or lose ever again. I want it, I do!
Maybe we are just grieving the loss of a childhood we never got to know or have. It seems everyone wants us to feel it and have it now. This hyper-vigilance we are left with in exchange for our innocence will NEVER let that happen. It is quite a dilemma we find ourselves in. I can rant and rave and rage all I want, but the reality is there are NO GUARANTEES! And this makes me angry. I know as an adult we are just joining the rest of society risking without guarantees too. But we lack the foundation and the tools to deal with loss and disappointment. That is why we hide and are so afraid.
This is something that no one else can give us. It is a loss, a devastating loss we must grieve. And I am angry! Today I am just angry!