As a recovering perfectionist, failure can wreak havoc on my psyche. I have to coach myself away from negative feelings that start in the pit of my stomach and that, if left unchecked, work their way into my mind and set up shop.
And here’s the thing. It’s not even a “real” failure. I simply missed posting a microblog yesterday. Not because I forgot. Not because I had nothing to talk about, but simply because I was feeling other feelings and couldn’t shake those feelings enough to pull up my blog and write.
I crawled into bed much too early, thinking I could nap away the feelings. I opened my eyes every now and then to check the time, hoping I’d have enough of some other feeling to post something before Monday became Tuesday. Anything.
I last looked at the clock at 11:20 p.m. and thought…there’s still enough Monday left. Then, I slipped into a deep, deep sleep.
I chided myself about it all day.
This is my attempt to “get over it” and to stop beating myself for what can’t be undone. I enjoy blogging—it has been a safe space for the last five (plus) years and I don’t want to associate negative feelings with my blog. So, I’m shaking those feelings by expressing them and by reminding myself—that “if at first I don’t succeed” at blogging every Monday for 52 weeks straight, then I can “try, try again” next year if I choose.
More importantly, I am allowing space for my own “humanness” and acknowledging that reconciling those other feelings was far more important than a blog post at that moment.