I keep freaking screwing up. After an entire day that had gone swimmingly, I screwed up last night. And then blew it again about five minutes ago. I'm angry, and I'm frustrated, and I'm discouraged, and I'm pissed at myself.
"Madness," writes Chesterton, "does not come by breaking out, but by giving in; by settling down in some dirty, little, self-repeating circle of ideas; by being tamed."
Will write more later when I'm more lucid and even-keeled and have come up with a game plan to keep this from happening again.
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So you screwed up. You've formed habits that are hard to break, without even getting into the psychological issues. Get over it and begin again. Every time you want to screw up and you don't is a victory. How many victories did you have yesterday? Today? Its a new day, a new hour, a new minute, a new second. :-)
ReplyDeleteThe question isn't did you fail, but are you breaking out? Not are you falling down, but are you falling down while climbing up? I know what the answer to that one is, and you should too. You're going in the right direction Donna ... keep on climbing, and the scrapes on your knees will begin to heal. You're in my prayers Donna!
ReplyDelete--
At the first turning of the second stair
I turned and saw below
The same shape twisted on the banister
Under the vapour in the fetid air
Struggling with the devil of the stairs who wears
The deceitul face of hope and of despair.
At the second turning of the second stair
I left them twisting, turning below;
There were no more faces and the stair was dark,
Damp, jagged, like an old man's mouth drivelling, beyond repair,
Or the toothed gullet of an aged shark.
At the first turning of the third stair
Was a slotted window bellied like the figs's fruit
And beyond the hawthorn blossom and a pasture scene
The broadbacked figure drest in blue and green
Enchanted the maytime with an antique flute.
Blown hair is sweet, brown hair over the mouth blown,
Lilac and brown hair;
Distraction, music of the flute, stops and steps of the mind over the third stair,
Fading, fading; strength beyond hope and despair
Climbing the third stair.
Lord, I am not worthy
Lord, I am not worthy
but speak the word only.