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Tuesday, February 5, 2013

The Worst.

Fear is the worst.  The worst.

It keeps me safe, protected, comfortable.  I have glided through this life confined by the parameters of fear.

Fear of what you ask?  Failure, judgment, bats. (the latter one although real, not REAL real.)

I can't recall a time or experience in life where I wasn't 100% convinced I was going to be successful.  Even when I packed up my life and bought a one way ticket to NYC I knew I wouldn't fail at that.  Naivety outweighed fear.  Besides, you can't really fail at living somewhere.  That's illogical. Duh.

Recently I've taken a new job at work. They call it a promotion but I technically had to apply for it with the general public and still did 7 hours of interviews. After accepting the offer I immediately headed in a downward spiral of regret and instability.  In the course of a weekend I had gone from the old timer to the new kid on the block knowing the answers to nothing.  I ended my old job on a Friday and walked in Monday morning sat down at my desk and didn't even know the first thing to do.

What am I doing you ask?  I've been tasked with the nitty-gritty management a portfolio that nears the ten digit mark.  TEN digits people. What that really means I'm still figuring out but as far as I can tell, it's overly complicated (well, maybe not "overly" but it sometimes feels like it).

That was 7 weeks ago and I'm still I am petrified. The kind of fear the induced sleeplessness, anxiety, sweats, shakes, crises of confidence, and an occasional meltdown on the walks home.

One night in particular I went for a run at the gym and told myself I'd run as long as I could.  So run I did. For two hours I ran 10 miles over the course of watching the Biggest Loser.  Consequently, I did not remember that I had walked to work so I now had my 1.5 mile walk up the hill to also complete.  Once I got to the top I called my dad and melted.  I proceeded to tell him how I was horrible at my job, that I was failing miserably, that I have no idea what I'm doing, that I am under-qualified for this position.  Of course there were tears, shaking, gasping and snot. (I also had just worked 12 hours and hadn't eaten since throw that into the mix.) All ingredients for a good meltdown.

Dad of course goes into strict daddy-defense mode and demands, "Who is telling you this?!"
With pause and trepidation, I respond, "Well, no one is ACTUALLY saying it."

That's when it dawned on me.  I was being self-defeatist. I was telling me I was failing.  I was telling me I couldn't do it and that I was under-qualified. Here I was, waving my flag of self-deprecation and perpetuating (or even creating) my own sense of doubt and worth.

Lame. Real lame.

In my heart of hearts, I'm pretty sure I won't fail because it's really not an option for me. In my heart I want to be fearless.  But in my heart of hearts I know I'm not.  At least right now I'm not.

One of the consequences of this whole shake up has been my retreat from a social life.  I've thrown myself into work draining me of any desire to connect with people. Because what if I was going to fail at being a friend, too?  That was too much potential failure to manage. This is not good, I know this (see aforementioned meltdown. QED.).

So this is what I'm wrestling with.  A paralyzing fear.

Fear also keeps me from dating but that's a whole different treasure chest of gems that I like to keep locked away....for now.


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