I love to learn. But I hate when it’s the hard way. I suppose it’s the best or most effective experience because really, the more something hurts, the less likely it is you’ll do it again. (Hopefully).
I ran into this recently. I got a little cocky and I thought I’d be able to handle my own in some new aspects of my life. And I actually did pretty well for myself. Out of nowhere, I had this unbelievable situation – one that I don’t think I could have created in my brain to be any better than it was. And then I completely trashed it. Like an explosion of blood and guts on the wall sort of trashed. The only un-undamagable damage that I am capable of pulling off.
It’s insane because it’s not as though my behaviors are new or even a mystery to me. Certain things about myself have followed me for years, and it really only took until this last cherade for me to understand how badly I was getting in my own damn way. And boy did I go hard getting in myown damn way this time. It all fell apart so fast that I could see it was unraveling as it was happening. Sort of like quicksand. And the harder I tried to find my feet again, the faster I fell. One of those instant “hindsight” moments.
And I know myself well enough to know that had I caught it sooner, I might be in a much different place right now. This one rocked the boat so badly that I believe I’ll be able to correct this in the future, but I guess right now I’m just disappointed because I don’t want to apply anything to anything but the past. You know, basically the ridiculous torture of playing out events as though you have any control over changing them. And then there’s the harsh reality that you are ready to be better, to grow, and make healthier decisions, without the option to take back what you messed up (and want to fix) in the first place.
I almost feel cheated. Like I was presented with this opportunity that I shouldn’t have been offered for at least a year or so when I had some of my crap figured out and would have been able to proceed like a normal, rational girl. Sort of like a job interview. You practice on all of the jobs you know you have no real interest in so you can show up for your dream job’s interview and bag it, tag it, and sell it to the butcher in the store.
But anyway, I guess that’s what makes life funky. And awesome. And confusing. And wonderful. And unpredictable. And exciting. And unbearable. And unbelievable.
And unbelievable.
The Four Eleven 