What is failure?
You know when you start off with a question like 'What is failure?' you are headed for murky waters. I met with my new therapist this week, and all the 'getting to know you' questions stirred up a lot of shit for me. As they always do. This has been on my mind for a minute. The truth behind what it feels like to leave my job, despite the poor fit that it and the location was for both me and my family. It's not pretty, and as I begin sifting through my past to further understand my journey to here I am left with this overwhelming sensation of déjà vu.
You think I am so brave, I walked away with my head held high. I am bold. I am a rebel, turning my back on academia to pursue my passions.
You have no idea.
I am nothing.
This façade is for me, a theatrical attempt to not drown in the depths of my failure. I failed not only myself but my family. I dragged them to a place we could not thrive. So much change, so little opportunity. Lovely people, a phenomenal baby, some life lessons sprinkled in...and here we are, so far below where we started.
And it is ALL. MY. FAULT.
I try desperately to focus on the beautiful little girl born in KY, and the amazing women that taught me all about true community. I try to see the silver linings and not focus on how my son does not have a playroom or a yard to play in. Or how or where we could send him to a few days of school this fall? So many questions, and I cannot even begin to answer them.
I am too wrapped up in failing.
This isn't the first time. It keeps reminding me of when I was 19. When I walked away from Emory University and into the arms of one shitty excuse for a human being. I failed myself so badly then. And when I got out of that they called me brave too.
I am beginning to think they do not know what bravery really is.
Failures aren't brave, they are just surviving.
To say this latest journey has humbled me would be an understatement.
I don't even know where to begin to pick up the pieces.
Maybe 20 year old me can come give me a pep talk. She survived her failure, maybe I can survive mine.