It still feels surreal to me. I’d always thought of myself as being accomplished, confident and certainly much higher than average at what I do. I pushed myself to limits I had never known possible. I battled asthma attacks in the office, but willed myself to stay on in the name of responsibility and doing my job. My life revolved around my work and family. These were all I had.
Then the rude awakening came.
I was brought down from my pedestal, falling like a star out of the sky. Falling from grace. Yet, I took it all in stride, believing that what didn’t kill me, would make me a stronger person. I braved criticism, took it all in. I waited for the notes of positivity to come. They didn’t. I told myself, good things don’t need to be said. They can be felt.
A day later. I’ve changed my mind. Good things still need to be given recognition. I didn’t get that recognition. That makes me sad. That the very few bad things overshadowed all the good that I had done. Wiped away everything positive I had brought. A bad apple ruining a whole lot.
That is the reality of life. It is a hurtful one. I’ve come to accept that I must accept it at the cost of my pride. Perhaps it it because of my pride that this has hit me tremendously, socked me in the stomach and blew the wind out of me. Away with that flew my confidence. And my heart. And I wanted to fly away, too, to the beautiful hills in Westgate, leaving behind all this sorrow.
Still, I must be grateful that I haven’t been hit harder, punched in the mouth, losing all my teeth with blood on my shirt, thrown into a ditch with both legs broken and with no way of ever climbing up…