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Been Better, But Been Worse

I have been a big proponent of feeling your feelings. It is the easiest way to get through tumultuous times, good or bad. Through the storm, always. But on days like these, I am reminded of just how bad the bad can get occasionally.

I have reached a certain sense of comfort in accepting and acknowledging my ego. While I have tried to minimize its impact on external aspects of my life, I have been unsuccessful in transcending certain situations that affect my sense of self-worth.

Of course, yesterday could be attributed to how the locus of my identity is exterior to me, especially when the power of evaluation lies with somebody I revere, but this is more than that. This is me knowing I failed to exercise my full potential in a situation where I should have been at my prime.

I knew I was susceptible to anxiety in a much more dangerous manner than the average person, but I never thought I could possibly wreck a dream because of it. So much for my dynamism and personality.

The good news is that I'm not wallowing in misery, a path I would've undoubtedly headed down in a different scenario. I don't know if I've disappointed myself one too many times and exhausted my ability to be bothered, or lost all hope and hit the point of absolute dejection. I mean, I wouldn't worry too much. For all my big talk, I seem to be doing fine for all practical intents and purposes, so this too should blow over soon.

Perhaps it is just the fatigue. It has been an eventful year, unrelenting in its passage. I suppose I can muster the fortitude to go on for a bit more. Maybe if I appreciate myself for having reached this far instead of cursing my nerves for botching up the home stretch.

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Grateful and more, yes, but fuck my life.


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