My ass just got handed to me
I failed.
A simple, not full of confusing words statement that somehow carries with it all of my deepest fears and personal agony that has defined this semester on so many levels. I have to retake a class. 3D design to be exact. I'll be receiving more than likely C's in both Graphics and Painting. Photography is going to be my best grade this semester.
I guess the question is whether or not I'll stop fearing failure after this particular hellish time in my life, or if I'll let it cripple me more than it already has during the course of my life. At least, failure in the academic sense. But yet, since I've always been devoted to going through college as a necessity to giving myself a better life in aims of being able to be successful in life, college does tie strongly in my belief or confidence in myself and at being successful, so failure in the academic sense still ties strongly into the fear of failure in life. Success is something that I've found this year to have been pretty much my highest priority in life, without really realizing it most of this time. My extremely perfectionist nature I thought was always a byproduct of coming from the family I came from, but I've found that it comes from my fear of failure, and determination to be successful. If I can't do it right the first time and be great at it, I don't find it worthwhile of doing at all.
I suppose I could ponder on where I got all of this, but I think I pretty much know. Part parents, mostly me. Doing great at something gets you attention, something that as a middle child and a child that matured way too fast taking care of a whole house while my single mother had to work to make ends meet, never got very much of. So by holding myself to standards of perfection at everything I did, I guaranteed myself attention, good attention, and not negative attention. So I stopped doing things where I had to allow myself room to make mistakes, or things that I wasn't good at from the start. Gymnastics, dance class, learning to sing, sports. Then I threw myself into everything else that I was good at, school, debate, theater, taking care of the house, work. I've held myself to standards of perfection so long that I've trapped myself and set myself up to be devastated if things go less than great. I used to freak out at the thought of getting even a B in something. That to me was settling for something less than great, less than perfect, and it still kinda does. I'm afraid of disapointing my parents. Doing bad gets you compared to the step-siblings, particularly the ones that are doing bad. My weight being case in point. Dad approaches me about about weight, doesn't want me being like overweight step-sisters, over-weight causes depression, causes bad self image and lower standard on guys, equals bad relationships, snowballs into bad marriage, bad home, etc, etc. What he doesn't get, is that my depression isn't caused by my weight, it's caused by me. By my inability to handle and cope with stress effectively, and the expectations that I've made of myself that have become impossible to fulfill. The weight is merely a symptom, a byproduct. And it's actually opposite in the relationship department, I expect way too much out of men, out of myself, in a relationship.
And now I've come to the crashing point. This is the accumulation of years of anal-retentive perfectionism. I made standards and expectations out of myself that are just impossible. Not impossible later down the road, but impossible now, for a college kid of my age and level of experience. I can't maintain a perfect home, a perfect school-life, and a perfect work-life. For starters, I should've taken a longer look at Debbie just to realize that. It took her several years to get to graduate with her Associates, working and going to school. She had to do nothing but go to school to complete her bachelor's. But I'm not in such a fortunate position that all I can do is school. I have nothing but art studios left. They take time, workmanship, and are basically are a full time job in and of themselves, they're not things that can be done or crammed all in one night. I can handle exams and academic courses that way, but not studios. I was silly, even stupid, to think that I could take on a full load of them while balancing two jobs, not just one, and somehow maintain an apartment. I fell behind, and even when I admitted my folly and quit a job, I never caught back up. Most of the time, when I've heard about family members or friends having to retake courses, or doing badly in college, it's the drinking, the parties, and similar things that I hear are the root cause of it. I didn't even play one playstation game, didn't touch one bottle of alcohol, never went to a single party, and neglected all of my friends the entire semester. I can't say I didn't try, that I didn't put as much I could into it. I've spent more sleepless nights on caffeine pills this semester alone than I have all my previous semesters combined. Probably twice as much.
I've heard the saying that goes when you lose, don't lose the lesson, or something to that effect, and it would seem that the lessons hit home for me, and I've really been able to think about what got me here and what kind of person I want to be. I don't want to be bound in fear, of failure, but I don't want to be carefree. I just wish I knew what to do to change that. I can fix the classes, the work, those things, a lot easier than fixing myself. Over the holidays Dad offered to help finance me doing nothing but school if it would help me finish faster, and it looks like it will, and I should. Even though it gives him more say in my life, and puts me back in a dependent position, I think I was always in a dependent position fooling myself and I think that I should make the most of it until the time when I can truly take full independence and responsibility for my life and myself and stay that way. It's going to be impossible and forever doing it my way, so I know that I need to make compromises. But I don't how to let my fears go, I don't know how to discipline myself when it comes to eating, and exercising, and I don't know how to deal with my stress in a good constructive way. And I don't know where to go to figure that out. It's like the rugs been taken out from under me, and I've fallen on my ass, but I only know how to sit up and move around, I don't know how to fully get up and walk.