If I had no expectations at all then maybe, just maybe, the disappointments wouldn’t be so great.
But then…where would I be without expectations? Without these over pumped-up goals and dreams that have me reaching far beyond what I’m capable of reaching? Where would I be if I didn’t stay ahead of this race…if I didn’t keep moving and shaking and clawing to get to the next step? What choice would I have…
I’ve a dozen things on my plate at the moment…all of which I can’t accomplish without a great amount hope and will and faith.
The other day, while Twitter was going nuts with one story after the next in support of Mental Health, I took a hard look at my own personal struggles and thought…”no…I’m good.” It’s not the way it used to be. I don’t panic and falter like I did all those years ago. I get up every day…albeit a little bit slowly. I fight down my demons and stick on a happy face and really…life is pretty good…all things considered. In fact…it’s pretty sweet!
So…why is it I want to curl into a ball in a blanket fort with a little bit of music and a friend…maybe a glass of wine and a piece of pie…for a small amount of comfort…and a nap?
I went to the doctor.
Asked if I was normal.
The lack of sleep, the exhaustion…the feeling of being colder on the inside than I am on the outside. One night after the next of nightmares where I’m falling down elevator shafts…unable to reach the life raft…searching desperately for a place to park my car…
Apparently I’m completely normal.
Something about “trying too hard” and “taking the pressure off myself” but really…if you were to give me a step-by-step instruction manual on how I’m actually supposed to achieve that…you’d be my hero.
In fact I’d make room for you in my blanket fort.
There are a million things I need to do to get me to the point of being successful before my whole world comes to a grinding halt. Everything I’m reaching for HAS TO WORK. There are no options here. I’m the only one that can get me back on my own two feet hence the over-exaggerated expectations…the hopes and dreams and goals I’ve set for myself with a timeline that’s far too short to get anything done with even less time to panic.
I’ve gone back to school. I’ve started a business. I’ve worked to get my name out there. I’ve written a book. I’m surrounding myself with supportive, positive role models. I’m booking meetings…selling myself…joining networking groups and making connections. I’ve a feeling like I’m on the edge of something fantastic while everything is coming together one day at a time and I know…more than anything…
I will succeed.
Plan A is the only option and yet…lately…I find myself a little uneasy…making contingency plans. Plans in case it fails. Plans in case what I expect will happen won’t happen. Plans I don’t want to be making but things I have to think about “just in case.”
But…if I’m making these plans in the event of failure…then what am I expecting…
Despite wanting to make a blanket fort. Despite a ridiculous timeline and a great amount of expectations there is no choice…
failure is not an option.
It’s behind me…I’m in the lead. I’m winning this race running as fast as I can with the will and determination to keep on going.
I just need a little distance between where I am…and what’s chasing me…before I can take a breath. Pour a glass of wine. Turn on a little music.
And curl up in my blanket fort.