I grew up with the expectation of success, there were no other options. Failure was more than just a one-time thing, it was something that would loom over you forever. Failure would incur disappointment, and disappointment would equate to shame.

Failure was is shameful.

But what constitutes as failure? Anything that isn’t up to the expectations placed upon you.

A lot of people don’t consider me a failure. My friends and family don’t believe that I am… Yes, I’m not living up to my full potential, but that doesn’t make me a failure… that makes me lazy. But being lazy is just a step toward failure isn’t it? If I’m not trying, if I’m not doing my best, aren’t I failing to meet these expectations?

I think of myself as a failure… and maybe that’s why my self-confidence morphs into the despicable self-doubt. I don’t think I’m good enough, I don’t think I can do what people seem to believe I can. I’m not where I’m supposed to be… that’s what I think.

I think I failed. I don’t think I failed my family or friends… not anymore anyway. I failed myself. I disappointed myself. I’m ashamed of myself.

And that’s something I have to bear every day. I have to carry the weight of the disappointment and shame, and the self-hate. I feel like a failure, and that’s my attitude towards myself, and my endeavors. I don’t set out to succeed, or do outstandingly, I set out to accomplish the minimum. I set out not to fail.

But here’s the reality: if you aim that low, you’re just setting yourself up for failure.

I guess that’s what I’m doing… I’m setting myself up for failure, and then blaming myself for it — entering in an on-going vicious cycle.


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