Bluebird Rising

"You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better." -Anne Lamott

6 days 5 1/2 hours July 9, 2011

Do not fear mistakes. You will know failure. Continue to reach out.
 Benjamin Franklin

So failure is officially the theme of my day. 6 days and 5 1/2 hours. That’s how long I made it on my quitting smoking quest. Not that I was counting.

I exerted a valiant effort this afternoon and nearly finished a new post that I thought would successfully circumvent boring topics like not smoking. Because it had been awhile since I had written. And people were curious as to if I was alive. And because the majority of my readers-nonsmokers,statistically-, would sympathetically nod, and tell me “eat you carrot sticks” (fuck you) and carry on about their non addictive life. And they wouldn’t understand. And I’d be more jealous and angry. And that does not a pretty Amy make.

But here we are. Writing a post that is raw, and unedited, and probably will jump around just enough where it doesn’t really make a whole lot of sense. But I can’t NOT write right now, and to be honest, I’m still putting this all together in my head as well. But I need to write it down, publish it, and move on.  Over-analyzation, my classic blog post MO, will cause me to lose my fucking mind.

To make a long story short, and give you a sense of my fractured state of mind, the following is a fairly accurate, albeit brief, description of my lessons.

This last week was the hardest of my life. Easily. Hardest because I was having the most miserable week ever for a cause that I could only blame myself for. I was the cause of my addiction, and anger, and inability to function. And from this I realized how easily I blame others for my problems, and how easily I feel lost when the only person to point the finger at is the one I have to look at every day in the mirror. And how hard that is every morning to even brush my teeth after that. I need to work on that. Obviously. Probably after the smoking.

I have learned about failure. Because I have finally done so. Not that I have never failed before. I have. Plenty of times. But I started to see how well I hide it. And how well I avoid it. I am either very good or very bad at something, There really is no middle ground in my abilities. And from the very beginning of tasks, I can tell if I will excel or not. I started to see a pattern of how I, without even thinking, take what I will excel at and run with it. And how I abandon those things that I see potential failure in almost immediately, or how I, at the very least, leave my effort very easy to skirt away from without witnesses. Failures that will be easily buried with time.

But that is not this situation right now.  I wanted this. Badly. And I still do. And I am suddenly in uncharted territory. And terrified that the lost feeling that I am experiencing means I have never really gone after anything in my life that has been presented as a potential failure. And that’s not living. And that makes me cry.

Which brings us to crying. I cry under two circumstances.

#1) Funerals. When other people are crying and I know that I can’t do anything to help them, that breaks my heart. I could walk into a random funeral of someone I have ever met, and I am a worthless mess.

#2) When I am so angry that I literally cannot stand it. We can count these occasions in my life on one hand.

Point being, I never hardly EVER cry when I am actually sad, as we discussed in this post, if you ever wanted to get really personal. And maybe today I was mostly frustrated, and sick of the feeling of failure, and what not. But I know it was actual sadness too. And, again, we have another aspect of my personality that I have always been able to gloss over coming to the surface. Whether that’s bad or good I have yet to decide.

But I am changing, and for many of the reasons listed, I think in many ways it is for the better. Smoking-wise, maybe not today. But in getting to know the entire realm of who I am, yes. I know the convenient parts well. Because they are easy to love. But when I can make sense of and appreciate these ugly parts to, I know will have really accomplished something. And I look forward to that.

And tomorrow? It’s Day One all over again. Because I want it to be. I really, really do.

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5 Responses to “6 days 5 1/2 hours”

  1. Brandy Says:

    You can do it sister!

  2. Nancy Says:

    I’ve never smoked but you and I both know that I have my share of addictive behaviors. I think almost all of us do, if we are really honest about it. I think the amazingly awesome thing is that you made it so long on the first try. Please know that only the perfect succeed at everything the first time. And, no matter how much I love you, you aren’t perfect. I hope that isn’t the 1st time you heard this. ; ) You are gonna beat this! Just keep at it.

    • WHAT?!? I’m not perfect??

      Just kidding. You are absolutely right. But don’t we all hate being reminded that we aren’t?

      Thanks for your kind words. And for pointing out that all of us, smokers or otherwise, have some sort of demon to battle. No one is as alone as they usually think.

  3. Sarah Says:

    you can do it knut!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


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