The Other “F” Word: Failure

This post is more a rambling for my own sanity. I’ve hit some testing times in my life and while it’s irrelevant for the purposes of this blog, nobody’s life is all cookies and rainbows all the time, and this has kind of dampened my spirit for quite a bit now.

I’m not quite a full-fledged type-A personality; while I have the ambition and aggressiveness, I like to think that I’m fairly laid-back and not competitive at all. However, I have been raised all my life to do well in school, go to a top university, and find an acceptable job after graduating with honors. I say acceptable job, because I was raised to be close-minded and to think that a nice middle-class white-collar profession was the only option.

I’ve pushed myself to accomplish all of that – straight A’s, top 10 student in high school; graduated from Georgetown with honors; worked in consulting.

I say worked because recently (not as recently as I’d like to think, fuck you time) I found myself, the not quite over-achieving-but-definitely-still-achieving-something moderately-hard-but-not-lazy-worker, unemployed. After days (let’s be honest, I’m still not over it) of being shocked, indignant, furious, depressed, and all of the emotions one can muster when sitting on the couch watching TLC and eating rotisserie chicken dressed in her boyfriend’s t-shirt. I cursed myself for not quitting earlier; I tossed and turned at night, too angry to sleep; I cried in the evenings after spending all day responding to caring texts and phone calls. I am not a quitter, and I am certainly not a failure – I never let those negative thoughts creep into my head. I am capable, strong, and I made the best decision given my circumstances.

And all along the way, life went on. I pulled myself together. I went to the gym and on my runs. This is a blessing in disguise. I found inspirational quotes to quell the panic squeezing my chest, the dull ache in my head, and the general unhappiness with my life.

Oh believe me, I had and have nothing to be unhappy about – I hated my job. Hated it to the point where that negativity and unhappiness seeped into all aspects of my life. All I could do was bitch about work and be miserable and pick fights with my boyfriend who only tried to cheer me up. At points I cried every night not wanting to sleep and then wake up to go to work. It got better, or so I thought – was it really just me growing complacent?

Now I have the chance for a new beginning – I’m still young, I only spent two years in an industry I learned that I could not spend any more time in, that led to a career path I was not excited about. I want to wake up excited; I want each day to be a new adventure; I never want to feel bored; I never want to stop feeling young; I don’t want to imagine the future and dread it. I think about my boss, and how pathetic he was, and how he used the mere fact that he was my boss, that tiny bit of power, to control me. It was a terrible environment to be in and I hope my friends who are still stuck there can get out.

So here’s to new beginnings and moving on – embracing challenges and fears; putting myself out there and being okay with the unknown. And maybe things have to fall apart before they can rebuild into something better. If I had stayed working where I was, I would be unhappy, but would not have had the time to soul search and job search. I could have become more complacent and wasted more time there. I felt forced to quit (and I AM NOT A QUITTER ARGH), but I cannot truly move on unless I live in the present, and not be anxious about the future, and regretful about the past.

I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m completely lost. What do I do with my life?


Something good did come out of this though – I can work out now in the afternoons and feel stronger, more focused, and less rushed than when I was fitting everything in before work. I figured out after months how to finally deadlift using a regular bar (shhhhhhh trap bar isn’t cheating) and deadlifted my bodyweight already. I’m squatting heavier than ever; I linked 5 chin-ups in a row; I even managed 2.5 pull-ups (the .5 is from the jump propelled first one!). I’ve increased my running mileage ever so slightly, turning my “usual route” from 4.5 miles to 6 miles and feeling amazing. My butt looks fantastic.

I still have things to be happy about and accomplishments to be proud of. I just hate feeling useless.


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