As a five year old boy my Dad taught me through hard life lessons that it wasn't good to be myself.
I tried, and tried at life.
And every time I tried I'd get my teeth knocked out. So I learned pretty early on that it wasn't good to be the person I was. Not at all. Not in any way shape or form.
So I donned a mask. A shadow of the person that I was. A shadow of the awesome personality that was me. And with childhood abuse it can go two ways. You can fight the good fight, or you can retreat to the shadowy losers corner, half conscious, waving the white flag.
I was the latter.
I had given up trying to be a person. Me. Beautiful me. And if you had met me before my late twenties you'd have thought that I was a totally awesome person. Awesome. One of the best you'd ever met. At least that's what a good few people had described me as.
But not because you liked me for me. But because I reflected your opinions, your thoughts, and your grievances. I agreed with everything you did. It was like looking into a mirror.
I was you and no-one all at the same time.
I was a Narcissists wet dream.
And co-incidentally I met a good amount of them throughout my life.
Yet one fateful day in my late twenties I stood up and asked myself. "Is this all that life has to offer me? Come on! There must be more to it. There must be more to me being everyone else's mirror. Who am I? And what do I want?"
So I sought help. And finally, help came offering. Because help doesn't come to those that don't want it unfortunately. It's sad but that's the way it works.
People can only be helped if they are willing to receive help
Through a long period of recovery, I learned the true extent of which my childhood had affected me, and the difficult and unhealthy path it led me on. I learned the bad choices I had made and the wrong turns I had taken.
I was a broken man.
And now I had the knowledge to heal myself.
Yet this wasn't an easy journey, one that wasn't completed in a week, or a month or even a year. It took a decade, and it's still a work in progress. And I wouldn't be the person I am today if I didn't get up and try again on many accounts.
And the absolute failure, the past 15 years has been littered with failure.
I failed at a good few things. Teaching teenagers, Astronomy and old friends to name a few. But if I learned anything I picked myself the fuck up, learned from it and tried again.
Those who taste success do so because they've previously drowned in the cup of failure.
And this is why I see failure as I guideline and nothing to beat myself up over. If I fail then I've learned an important lesson on how not to do things. I'm now more knowledgeable than the next person who has yet to discover the exact same path to failing.
Life, it's a learning experience.
Not a path to perfectionism.
Own it :)