Thursday, May 31, 2012

I Dread Making Mistakes

I must say that I spend a fair amount of time zigging, zagging and plotting, in the futile effort of avoiding making mistakes. I failed again, earlier this week. Oh, I had some help, as the err was not mine alone, but I took the fall.
When I make a mistake, there is a plethora of both diffuse and intense emotion that engulfs me. That old saying, "she could turn on a dime", meaning an abrupt, quick change...well, I get the human/alien version. Every thing else, every thought, previous feeling and path ceases to exist. I am trapped, face first against a twelve foot brick wall...and the howling is quite intense and multi-directional. I am surrounded by broken plates being thrown and hurling insults. I wrap my hands to ears but then it just gets louder, closer, and I have nowhere to run to, nor hide. I am at the mercy, of the man beating me with his fists.....
So I looked up "basic emotions" and horror plus misery resonated. I can't tell you if, in the past a man did beat me repeatedly with his fists or if it's my metaphoric version of how it feels. Some visions are unclear.
Making a mistake is a crushing blow to the very center, the solar plexus, the pit of the stomach in physical terms. It's shame, eyes downward; embarrassment, coat over head; horror, because I don't want to be hit or beaten anymore; misery, because being hit hurts. Oh, I see a theme.
I equate mistakes with great physical pain and the emotional pain of being rejected, cast off, not good enough, undeserving, unworthy...love turns away. It's a hollow empty place, when turns away...never knowing if it be coming back...or ever was. Hmpf
I've wrestled with this mistaking as long as I can remember. I've written, analyzed, been psychoanalyzed, more than once....I haven't found the solution. But, methinks, this is the very first time that I have been able to disassemble it into its components. See them strew across the floor? Instead of in one big heap. Time to play with progress, for once disassembled the pieces never go ack again the same, kinda what happens when I get a hankering to take the vacuum apart.

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