I'm I a Failure ?

 

I can bet I am not the only one who asks themselves this question over and over again? I don't know whether the intensity of self-audit grows as we age? but lately I have found myself musing on this question, 

I'm I a failure? 

Is this what adulting is about? I'm I supposed to feel this lost? I'm I supposed to feel this desperate and to cling on to every shred of hope that I can muster? 

I always ask myself this question because a blanket of doubt often covers me and sometimes overwhelms me. It's like  a dark cloud that forces me to keep looking back and wonder when and  where did I miss it? When and  where did I take the wrong turn? when and where did I lose my concept of self? when  and where did I stop dreaming ? if I ever started? 

This auditing has made me unearth some deep truths about myself that I am not even sure I am ready to deal with. I recently sobbed like a baby, because of some truth that lay on me like a heavy wet blanket. I cried for all the years lost in shock, trauma and the struggle to just survive. 

I also try not to fight the feeling.

I tell myself that the more I feel like I'm drowning, that's where my solution will come from. I am waiting for that light at the end of the tunnel; and/or the proverbial bright light. I am waiting for the bulb to switch ON! I am waiting for my moment to exhale! I am waiting for that aaaaaaah- oooooooh moment!

...and the more I immerse myself in the feeling, the more I stew on feeling lost! Adulting does that thing to me-  can't even allow me to despair in peace- it keeps snapping reality back on my face! I can't allow myself to get lost and feel my feels and take some good amount of time to just muse on things. Sleep takes over because I work like a donkey, spend hours on traffic, get home and start mothering and the cycle continues. 

Good news is! I keep moving, I keep realizing small small achievements that are worth celebrating and somewhere at the back of my mind I encourage myself. There is a story I am writing by making  these small small moves, by adding one more piece of information, I am building something that  someone will refer to someday. It's not all lost. Maybe mine wasn't supposed to be a big picture kind of dream then achieved in small small bits; maybe mine is a two-storey building that I keep building one brick at a time. It must make sense some time!