A downfall on my part is that I am a sensitive soul. There is no hardness in my movements or in my spirit. However, I am overly hard on myself. By all means, there is not 100% perfection in my accomplishments.
There are only penitent feelings when I let someone down or make a mistake. Stewing and boiling over with embarrassment is nothing new. I can swallow the constructive criticism and when an error is brought to attention. I dislike feelings of being viewed as incompetent, unintelligent or unreliable. Those are my crosses to bear, my self inflicted words haunting me.
For a time, I attempted to keep it at bay by producing weak sucker punches. I still managed to get smacked while throwing my fists, bare knuckled with no boxing gloves for protection.
Often anger is often internalized but not today. My patience and understanding of everyone's stress and predicaments wore thin like beat up leather.
Today it was a perfect storm of anxiety, pity, regret and frustration. Combined with a week of rejection, dejection and objections from others and myself. The fallout was mortifying and loud like a crack of thunder piercing the dark lit skies.
It wasn't my intention to cause a rumble or downpour trouble to an already escalating moment. The worn leather bag felt too many marks from clenched fists. It tore open and once suspended in air now slumped to the ground. The splintered material now spilled and revealed for all to witness.
It is evident there is a lack of satisfaction from within. Growing tiresome of the constant rejections and career setbacks. Unsettled on the homestead and confused by its unsteady and shaky foundation.
The only outlet is writing to help break apart the confusion. Even that is used against me sometimes. Everyone needs a scapegoat, for awhile I was fine being the one to sacrifice myself as the punching bag. That hasn't led me to where I need to be. I need to hang up the red gloves and just deal with life as it comes. I need to abandon the punching bag and walk on.
U2 "Walk On."