Success and Failure

Come on and sit down with me.  I've got a few things I'd like to say to you, just us here in this cozy place.  Y'see I'm a little scared of what's coming and I thought if I owned it, the coming events might not be so scary.

I am, at my heart, a self-destructive person.  My own best interest rarely wins in my judgments, and that means for the major things in my life I've failed.  This isn't easy to admit, because, well, my own view of myself that is coloured by the opinions of others is that I'm a rock of strength, someone to lean on when times are rough, a strong defender of what's right, a comforting shoulder to help the weak continue on, and a keen observer of events to record and take witness of the world.

Unfortunately there's this disconnect.  I mean shit, it's two thirty in the morning and I'm writing a blog post while I've got classes at 10 am tomorrow.  Not the best approach when you've got to be keen for a presentation.

So here's the deal folks.  I've never succeeded at anything major in my life.  Three failed major relationships, well four to ten if you count all the times the last one broke up, came together, broke up, ad nauseum.  I'm sure my friends all appreciated that litany of complaints.  Three failed careers.  The casino, security installations, and StarTek, where I was pretty freakin' good at what I did.  And I'm not the most attentive person when it comes to my family.  I'm sure my kids find me a bit harsh, stern, and perhaps even cold.  I've pretty much loused up the lot of them, although with the kids that remains to be seen because I have turned a corner.

Going back to school was the best thing I could have done.  I love doing what I do in academia, and wish to continue it.  Not as one of the intelligentsia, not as a gilded tower academic, sitting on high and judging those beneath me with words that won't matter.  Naw, I'm a workman of scholarship.  I have to be.  Me noggin's got some injuries and sumnat.  The number of concussions I've had has pretty much assured me of a life of depressive episodes, memory lapses, and perhaps even another life threatening disease as I get older.  Oh Joy!

But that's another post.  Here and now I'm telling you what I'm afraid of.  I'm afraid of succeeding.  This is my last semester before I get that degree, and already I can feel this edgy darkness creeping around the den.  I can feel an urge of insanity pushing me to get all crazy with my bad self, and reassure the rest of the world that even when we're at our best we can fail miserably.  I'm terrified that if I do this the expectations will be raised, and they're already plenty high.  I am near panic just contemplating the future and how well it might go. 

This isn't a complaint, or a warning.  Instead, this is an honest and open request for help.  You're my family and I feel that we all owe it to each other to continue to push the other to bigger and better things.  So if you see me doing the things that may cause a rupture in my damaged mind, point it out.  I won't take offense.  Well not for long at least.  So please, give a hand, if you see me stumble, a little push back up, and if you see me heading for the hinterlands, tranq dart my ass and drag me back to sanity.  Trust me, in the end I'll definitely appreciate it.