Now that all the cards have been laid on the table, I never feel alone. The heaviness of it thumps down the hallway behind me. It enters every room before I do and spills over the conversation. I’m haunted by knowing how the story ends.
This blog has in some way been about giving up. Climbing for me was a distraction from a life that had otherwise ended. It served as a focus which eventually gave me a piece of myself back, but it’s what happened next which was always my goal.
Of all the aspects surrounding challenges, dealing with failure is the one that I find most difficult. Reason would dictate that I should be accustomed to it by now, but this isn’t so. In fact I feel as though it’s cumulative and gets worse with each one.
I constantly set difficult challenges for myself. I’m never happy with just getting by. Time and time again I have wished that this wasn’t the case. I don’t even know if constantly battling makes me happy. It’s just what I do. Given this, I need to be more at peace with not always achieving what I set out to do.
Last week I achieved exactly what I set out to do. I still can’t understand why the emotions of sadness and joy feel so similar. Maybe they aren’t that different.
