Fear of Failure

This is the recurring theme of my life. Over and over and over again. I’m afraid I won’t make a contribution to humanity. I won’t wow everyone with some accomplishment. The last ten years of my life have been an utter shitshow because I haven’t been able to do prove myself anywhere. Sure, I kept my kid alive, but that’s it.

About six years ago, when I was seeing my shrink regularly, we talked about this a lot. One of the things I mentioned was that I didn’t like my size. I didn’t like that I was overweight. At the time, I was 215 pounds and felt awful because it was the highest I had ever been. I managed to creep up to 245 (mainly because of that gluten challenge), but I’m hovering close to 230 now. I wrote this in my journal at the time:

Wow. It’s pretty obvious that my relationship between weight and stress is very close. And the times that I was either newly in love or away from school/parents seemed to really drop my weight, as did my work. I did enjoy my job when it was good. But at the end, it obviously started going bad. Unemployment has been horribly stressful to me. That’s the only thing that screams out at me here.

Then I had this graph.



This year has been great, because even though I haven’t been working full time, I have been substitute teaching and it has been wonderful. Makes me feel like I’m “changing the world” and the kids make me feel like I’m the best teacher ever. Talk about a self-esteem boost. But once the summer hit, and I don’t have any work…ugh. Back to drinking and eating not so great.

I need to find connection with people and do things that make me feel good about myself. Things that make me feel like I’m doing amazing stuff and contributing to the greater good.

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