Failure

The thing about failure is that it mostly matters to no one but yourself.  Nobody cares that you didn't accomplish what you set out to do.  Nobody cares that you worked really, really hard and it wasn't good enough.  Nobody cares that you really put yourself out there just to try in the first place.  Nobody, but you. And when you are your own harshest critic, frankly, failure feels just as big and as bad as it would if everyone else did care.

I have failed at numerous things in my life, but it has never gotten easier.  I've learned and grown from most of those failures, but they still sting.  I have forgotten many of my failures over the years, but some of them still haunt me regularly.  I have gone back for redemption, sometimes succeeding and sometimes finding that I've failed that too.  And while that stings the most, what I've learned is that I. AM. NOT. A. QUITTER. even when sometimes i am . . .

To the outside world, I have it all together, but inside my head I hear the constant scream of "Failure!  You are a failure!"  It's not the 1/3 (almost) success rate in my Half Iron quests.  It's not the soul crushing day to day life of my work.  It's not the daily feeling of not being good enough . . . for my kids, for my husband, for my clients.  It's not my incredibly high standards I hold for myself, even when I know those standards are nothing short of ridiculous.  But, if it's not any of these things . . . then what is it?

If I were to say that the last 2 1/2 years of my life have been incredibly difficult, I wouldn't be lying, or joking or even exaggerating.  Everything has been turned upside down and I'm still grasping for some normalcy, some resemblance to something that makes me think that when the dust finally settles it will all be okay. I've had many people tell me how strong I am, how strong I was and how they don't know how they would have gotten through.  I got through it, but here I am almost 3 years later wondering how, knowing I'm not as strong as anyone thought, knowing I didn't do anything anyone else wouldn't have done and heck, they probably would have done it better, more confidently, and even had some fun along the way.  They would have handled the situation with success, not still be dwelling on what will never be almost 3 years later.

Who is this person?  What happened to that woman who would do whatever she said she'd do, even when no one else thought she could?  How did she end up chasing goals just to prove to herself that there's still some of that in her?  How did she end up thinking she was a failure even when she succeeds?  Who is this person I have become?  And how do I make her go away so I can find the real me again?

And yet, here we are.  I get up every day.  I make my kids lunch, and get them off to school with hugs and kisses and lots of love.  I push client work out the door and earn a living.  I eat as healthy as I can and run, and run and run and run.  I walk my dog, run with my kids and tell my husband I love him (and unlike a lot of married people, I actually mean it).  I read, and knit and clean up around the house and then go to bed and do it all over again, and again and again.  I wonder if this is all there is, and if so, is this failure? Is there something else out there that will allow me to find success?  Or at least to stop feeling like I'm failing everyone, including myself, by never being enough?