Tonight I tried to write a post about my feelings. I tried to write about what I feel when I am overcome with weakness and insecurity. I sat at the keyboard and typed out a thousand words that were supposed to illustrate what I feel and how I deal with these feelings.
I typed it out and then was so disappointed and dismayed with what I wrote that I was forced to delete it.
And then I tried to write something different. I tried to write the beginning of a short story and all I could do was come up with 17 versions of tired cliches.
In the quiet of the evening I thought that I could tap into something raw and powerful and come away with fake and superficial. I tried hard to reach deep inside, to find something that would make me choke up. I thought that it would be good to reach that point where I was embarrassed to read the words because it was that real.
Instead I found something shallow and then a wall that stopped me in my tracks.
For a moment I was ambivalent. For just an instant I wasn’t concerned about my inability to climb the hill. And then I was just disappointed with myself. I was sorry that I couldn’t get myself to the place I wanted to be, that I couldn’t meet my own goal and that made me sad.
I failed. I failed. I failed.
So now I head off to bed wondering where I fell short and why. But I promised myself one thing. As I drift off to sleep my thoughts will be on happier things and a smile will be on my face.
Tomorrow will be a new day and another step in my journey. I’ll be one step closer to….
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