Life as an Extreme Sport


I bit one bullet today, and admitted to a colleague today just how badly I have been doing, and why, and what steps I’ve taken to try to fix it, and how it’s not worked, and what I’m doing now to attempt to wrestle things back under control. She’s not dumb, and had figured most of it out… but just the act of saying “look, I’ve been barely holding it together, and here’s why” was both terrifying and liberating.

Mostly terrifying, though. People are such harsh judges, at times, and I feel like this is one thing that if I am judged for, again, harshly – or more harshly than I have been on myself – that it might just be that final straw on the camel. Which sounds so much more overwrought than I intend it to, or it is.

I have never, in my adult life, fallen apart like this before – not this hard, not this long. Not into this many pieces. And as harsh and hard as some people are being about it, to be perfectly honest, I am my own worst critic. It sounds so silly, but in some ways I think the worst thing is, I’ve lost my self-confidence. If I just had that, I might be able to pull out of this downward spiral.

Anyhow, that’s enough on the emo-express for now.