Unforgiving
I am so hard on myself.
I've always been that way.
When I was 8, I was selling candy bars for my school fundraiser. $1 a bar. I got several caught in the spokes of my bike and they were mangled and unsellable. I was pretty upset, and not entirely because I had to spend $5 of my own money to buy the candy bars myself.
When I failed my driving test when I was 16, I replayed the whole drive in my mind for weeks (and even to this day, occasionally).
When I did worse than I thought I should have done on the SAT, I flew off the handle (even though I was sick as a dog and kicked ass the next time I took it).
My second year in Tulsa, I backed into another car in the library parking lot. I was concentrating on not hitting a group of kids, and totally missed a car sitting right there. I just put a small dent in their car and nobody was hurt. But I thought of nothing else for several days after this happened.
Emerson's due date was Feb 27, and we were shooting for a Leap Day birth. I started having very constant pains the night of the 26th. Turns out I was just dehydrated and the contractions slowed down at the hospital. But I couldn't keep any liquids down so they admitted me and eventually induced stronger contractions. If only I had had more water to drink that day, I may not have missed my goal of Feb 29. Wow, right?
This week, I missed a requirement while writing a test plan and my boss caught it before I did. I didn't let it go until something else came along to worry about.
Today, I put my cell phone through the washing machine and I feel like a total failure. RIDICULOUS, I know. This in the first time in, what, 10 years that this has happened? And it's just stuff. And I did it because I was preoccupied with reading the rental car manual making sure Em would be safe in the car tomorrow. And I was going to stop using the phone next month anyway when the plan expires and get a newer phone with a cheaper contract.
Why have I never been able to let things go when I screw up? I am not as hard on other people. As long as they admit their wrongs and do their best to correct them, I'm good. But I am a total bitch to myself. I'm not successful professionally and academically because I am motivated and intelligent. It's because I'm so scared of failing. Or rather the rigor I will put myself through when I fail.
Lots to figure out before Em's old enough to more fully understand what is going on. Or else I'll be like the mom from American Beauty. Of all the things I worry about failing at, passing all of this along to Em is the worst.
I've always been that way.
When I was 8, I was selling candy bars for my school fundraiser. $1 a bar. I got several caught in the spokes of my bike and they were mangled and unsellable. I was pretty upset, and not entirely because I had to spend $5 of my own money to buy the candy bars myself.
When I failed my driving test when I was 16, I replayed the whole drive in my mind for weeks (and even to this day, occasionally).
When I did worse than I thought I should have done on the SAT, I flew off the handle (even though I was sick as a dog and kicked ass the next time I took it).
My second year in Tulsa, I backed into another car in the library parking lot. I was concentrating on not hitting a group of kids, and totally missed a car sitting right there. I just put a small dent in their car and nobody was hurt. But I thought of nothing else for several days after this happened.
Emerson's due date was Feb 27, and we were shooting for a Leap Day birth. I started having very constant pains the night of the 26th. Turns out I was just dehydrated and the contractions slowed down at the hospital. But I couldn't keep any liquids down so they admitted me and eventually induced stronger contractions. If only I had had more water to drink that day, I may not have missed my goal of Feb 29. Wow, right?
This week, I missed a requirement while writing a test plan and my boss caught it before I did. I didn't let it go until something else came along to worry about.
Today, I put my cell phone through the washing machine and I feel like a total failure. RIDICULOUS, I know. This in the first time in, what, 10 years that this has happened? And it's just stuff. And I did it because I was preoccupied with reading the rental car manual making sure Em would be safe in the car tomorrow. And I was going to stop using the phone next month anyway when the plan expires and get a newer phone with a cheaper contract.
Why have I never been able to let things go when I screw up? I am not as hard on other people. As long as they admit their wrongs and do their best to correct them, I'm good. But I am a total bitch to myself. I'm not successful professionally and academically because I am motivated and intelligent. It's because I'm so scared of failing. Or rather the rigor I will put myself through when I fail.
Lots to figure out before Em's old enough to more fully understand what is going on. Or else I'll be like the mom from American Beauty. Of all the things I worry about failing at, passing all of this along to Em is the worst.
posted by Amanda Shankle-Knowlton | 7:10 PM
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