I tend to have irrational meltdowns approximately three times… a day. Sometimes they are fleeting OCD moments of “did I leave the bathroom window open??” after I clearly closed it and after I’ve left my apartment. But then refusing to return to check because I’m more of an OCD sympathizer rather than totally committed to the cause. Other meltdowns however can spiral from fun chats about how I would spend my millions if I won the lottery, to hours of agonising over the fact that I will be forever poor and my life as a direct result is devoid of all meaning.
Yes I understand that money is not everything… but I’m pretty sure I would feel like I’m winning at life whilst hosting exquisite parties… with Beyoncé and Jay Z… on my yacht… in the Caribbean.
I was having said fun chats with a friend recently about winning the lotto. The type of chats where you genuinely believe you are going to win and have already spent the fictitious money on your holiday home in the South of France, that impromptu weekend in Vegas and converting your house into a theme park with a massive slide that goes from your bedroom down into your kitchen! I asked my friend that if she won what would she give me… her response “a punch in the vagina.” I sensed she wasn’t taking this conversation seriously.
It was while I was listing all the things I wanted that it made me realise how much I believed I didn’t have. Cue the meltdown…
I spent the rest of the afternoon thinking I had failed at life. My 12 year old self would be so pissed at me right now. I was supposed to be married… to a boy, with kids, working as a rich and successful detective (slight obsession with 'Murder She Wrote') proficient in Kung Fu (slight Bruce Lee enthusiast) AND commuting to and from work on a hover board.
But alas I was none of those things. Even my 29 year old self would be raging at me for not sticking to ‘the plan.’ As I poured myself another vodka I pondered the thought… Was I a poster child for failing spectacularly perhaps? Orrrr have I just failed my way into being… AWESOME!
I’m by no means a shining example of someone who screwed things up and is now living her life most excellently. And in fact... if we were comparing my life to say Justin Bieber or sexually confused dickhead Jessie J... I haven't really screwed up at all! However I still feel very much 10 steps behind everyone else on figuring out what the hell it is I’m doing with my life. But I do know that if it were not for the few feck ups I had on the way… I wouldn’t be confident enough to even write this blog post now.
The failures in your life are just experiences you have to learn from. They equip you to be better, sharper and more resourceful. You become an expert in sniffing out the bullshit and making more real informed choices about what it is you wanna be doing with your life. Failures also make for amazing stories! One of my fave failing stories is about wearing bright orange flip flops to a friend’s very posh wedding. Since then I have tried to dress appropriately for all occasions. Every day is a school day!
Nothing is really learned or appreciated from success without the struggle. I don’t think so anyways. Who wants instant gratification... happiness... and glory anyways?!!
**please stay with me... don't lose focus now**
You learn from the mistakes you make even if that mistake has broken you and every little fairy-tale you figured you were owed. We all know this. Nothing here is revolutionary or ground breaking! Just go and grow a pair when it comes to the direction of your life and embrace the fact that you could fail miserably. If you do, then wallow just for a moment… THEN brush that shit off, adjust and get on with it. Failure just serves as a friendly reminder to start again with a little more intelligence this time. You're only an idiot if you keep making the same mistakes whilst learning absolutely nothing. So quit berating yourself over the fact that your life isn’t where you expected it to be right now… you haven’t failed. Your success is just pending!