Dealing with Failure

One of my biggest pitfalls is learning to accept, deal with, and move past failure. We're talking anything as simple as forgetting to fill out a box on a piece of OW (Ontario Works) paperwork to not having a meal turn out just the way I wanted it to. Some people will read that and simply call me anal. Yes there are people out there who are that uptight and control freaky just because that's the way they are. 

And then there are people like me who have spent a good deal of their life being emotionally punished for the slightest failure. Did I mention that I grew up in a house that utilized corporeal punishment? My dad had the 'anything worth doing is worth doing right the first time' attitude. Failing was often not an option.

I have thankfully gotten to the point where I at least recognize that I am beating myself up for a perceived failure. I can shrug off a lingering depression that is fueling itself from those feelings. However, it often takes longer than it aught to get over the initial hump of ‘oh my god! What have I done! I've spoiled everything!’

I have very high expectations for myself. I am always striving for perfection. Good enough is never good enough. I drive myself crazy trying to always do better. I cannot see the things I have done as 'accomplishments'. I cannot see the things I have survived as evidence of my strength. It makes me crazy  that it takes so much effort just to get out of bed, just to put one foot in front of the other, that it costs me so much to move in the direction that I want to go in.

You cannot win at life. There is a Game Over screen, but there is no Victory screen.

When will I realize that? When will I stop kicking my ass because I haven't done enough? I am about to be 27 and I am sitting here railing, "What have I accomplished? " I have two baby sisters, one with two kids, and husband and a house, and the other with the same, less the kids. 

I wrote a children's story when I was 17. Published it when I was 19. But it was a self publication, and other than sell enough to break even, what the hell have I done with it? Nothing! It's sitting in my basement, collecting dust. I had all of these grand plans for selling them and writing more, and making a good deal of profit from it so that I could just work whatever minimum job I wanted to that made me happy. Now look at me. 

I hate that the only real progress I have made in the past five years has been psychological - not that that's anything to sneeze at, but come on! I was working my way up through the ranks of my last job, a job that I loved, was good at, and found fulfilling  And then I was forced to quit because of my health. I cannot even get a part time job because I can never tell when I'm going to be completely unavailable, nor for how long. It's simply not fair to any prospective employers. 

Apparently a big reason that I have such a hard time dealing with failure is that I cannot accept my limitations. I have no problem attributing this to pride. I seem to have mastered the art of setting it aside in such instances as accepting OW, accepting a ride in a wheel chair when it becomes needful, or taking my cane with me almost everywhere that I go. And yet...

I strive be be completely self sufficient. Meanwhile, life keeps throwing me curve balls that make that completely impossible. I am dependent on the pills, the caffeine, OW, the people around me... I wish that these things could be wants instead of needs. I have so few wants, and way too many needs. I attempt to strive for one thing, and up crop all of these needs. It certainly adds an emphasis to Special Needs.

I have to keep asking myself if I'm doing the right thing. It's sort of like the insanity test. If I can ask if I'm crazy, then everything is fine. 

So...Am I crazy?