I’ve Grown So Why Does It Feel Like I’m Failing Right Now?

Two years ago, I was at perhaps my lowest point. Entrenched in a deep depression and working a career I’d grown apathetic toward, I struggled to get out of bed each morning. My drives into the office routinely included 10–20 minute panic attacks as soon as I’d get within five miles of the building. I needed a drastic course correction and, rather than wait for somebody else to come save me, I took a page from the philosopher King Marcus Aurelius.

Get busy with life’s purpose, toss aside empty hopes, get active in your own rescue — if you care for yourself at all — and do it while you can. – Marcus Aurelius

I spent the next two years working every day to better myself mentally. I meditated. I journaled. I read and I wrote. I taught myself new things and I fixated on forms of creative expression that could channel that energy, both the good and bad, into something tangible. And you know what? I got better.

I worked out and slimmed down, I rebuilt my self-image, and I removed the negative self-speak that had shaped a distorted view of myself. I did everything I could think of to fight for myself and believe again in the potential within me. But a funny thing happened.

After an extended period of gradual resilience-building and fine-tuning a strict morning routine, I found that the inner citadel I’d built was by no means impenetrable. The world, through the tragedy in Uvalde, reminded me of how terrible and hopeless it can be.

I suddenly found myself fearful for my own child’s safety and future. She’ll turn two in a little over a week and then begin pre-school in August. That fear I felt was then turned upon itself earlier this week as certain red flags my wife and I had noticed with our daughter’s development were shown not to be unfounded. To say these are uncharted waters for us would be an understatement. While she may be fine yet with a little guided assistance and speech therapy, the uncertainty is gutting. It’s also brought about a clawing anxiety deep within my chest I haven’t experienced in years.

I always feared I wasn’t good enough. That there was inherently within me something flawed or broken. Those feelings resurfaced with a vengeance this week. I worry that if my daughter is struggling, it’s because part of her comes from me, and that’s more burden than blessing.

But why is that? Why would deeply upsetting thoughts of that nature — thoughts that unequivocally do not serve me — afflict me after all of this time? The answer is simple: it’s the path of least resistance.

Just as a well-worn path along a hike is easier to traverse, certain neural pathways in our minds are more directly linked than newer, less reinforced paths. It doesn’t matter if a particular path hasn’t seen as much usage over the past couple of years. The fact is that they remain and that the newer paths are not as well-established yet. These thoughts were convictions I held deeply for nearly two decades. They weren’t going to be chased away with a couple of years of mental clarity.

Old beliefs resurface again and again, regardless of our growth in the interim. Until the growth eventually outweighs the trauma, such patterns will remain buried within and waiting to resurface.

Think of it as a toxic confirmation bias. That well-worn pathway tells me I’m not good enough and that I’m somehow unworthy. When sufficient emotional distress is triggered, my mind rushes to respond, jumping to old conclusions I haven’t believed in years.

Here’s the thing though…

As much as I’d like to definitively say that simple awareness of this fact means that I can overcome it, I can’t. Not with certainty, at least. All I can do is trust in the process that pulled me once before from the abyss.

So I’ll double down on my morning routine and I’ll apply it all throughout the day as well. I’ll dig my feet in and try my best to remain grounded while staying committed to the present moment without lamenting things I cannot change. Past is prologue. The future, assuming I take care of the present moment to the best of my ability, will take care of itself.

That’s what I believe. Because I have to believe it. Anything less would risk leaving me cold and hollow. My family needs me to be the best version of myself, and so do I.

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This post was previously published on MEDIUM.COM.

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