Near Failing Experience

I had one of these, just this past week. It was during my qualifying exam. I got to the last question for the morning session and then panicked. The question was different from the one I was lead to believe was going to be on the exam and the prospect of reconstructing an answer with the amount of time left on the clock was overwhelming.

I say near failure, but there is a very real chance I will fail on this question. After the time was up and the immediate panic subsided, embarrassment and doubt crept in. I felt as if everyone else close to me has found their niche and are slowly but surely moving toward recognition and meaning while I stumble from project to project like a frightened animal attempting to escape its enclosure only to realize that there is always another barrier to go through. There is no freedom outside these enclosures; the only freedom to be had is found within the place I am in—whichever place it is I decide to stop running. Escape is not only useless it is unnecessary for freedom.

I can’t believe that I have turned out to be one of those people—a mundane, track-house residing commuter who believes his life holds greater meaning than the brand of furniture he is able to buy. So I never think I’ll be good enough, I don’t feel loved, my past failures continue to haunt me and I am afraid of commitment. It all been said before, this pathetically hackneyed dribble. I am ashamed of myself; it has to my perception which is flawed because I’ve tried to better myself, take more degrees, professionally manage my money, even to the point of perfecting a firmer handshake and the confident look in the eye when I meet people, but none of this is leading anywhere. It’s me who is the problem and the only way to avoid the problem is to avoid being me. A very real part of being me is being continually mired in these thoughts and conditions.