Poke.

I’m not sure how the most optimistic person in the world can have nights like this, but it stands to reason that even the strong have their Achilles heal, and mine seems to be fear of failure.

Which is hard for me to wrap my head around when I have a solid belief that everything is going to be ok.

Maybe my problem is I’m fretting about the details and failing to stand back to see the big picture.

Perspective. Haven’t I written about perspective a million times?

“Yes, Meri. You have.” Say every single person reading this right now.

How do I escape the fear? It haunts me, it eats at me, it pokes me like a stubborn child.

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

Maybe it has always been poking, and it’s just taken one moment of weakness, one step closer to the cliff for the pokes to effect me?  Everything seems more perilous the closer you are to a cliff.

That isn’t insanity, that’s science.

So how is it that crying makes the cliff so much less daunting? I’ve had my good cry and I feel so much better. Scientifically, I’ve heard that crying releases stress hormones and toxins from the body. Unscientifically, maybe taking all that bottled up emotion, turning it into tears and then throwing it outside the body is cathartic.

Whatever the case, I’m here trying to figure it all out. Writing usually helps me get to the heart of the matter, and in this case, my heart is scared.

Of failing.

Of failing school.

Of failing my kids.

Of failing the ones I love.

Right now, I'm trying so hard, I make things a million times harder than they have to be.

Right now, I worry so hard, I make things a million times more complicated than they have to be.

I’ve let things fall to the wayside to put all my energy into school, and what if all this wayside-ing is just my way of failing without actually saying the word “Failing.”

I’m such a hypocrite.

“You are enough”

“Your best is enough”

I’ve blogged that a million times.

I just can’t fathom failing while doing my best. And yet, it seems as though it could be a possibility.

I’m capable, and I need to trust in that. I need to trust in my knowledge that everything WILL be ok. I need to trust in the peace in my heart, even when the vessels around it pulse with insecurity.

I need to trust in a loving Heavenly Father who has taken such good care of me, and isn’t going to stop now.

I’m on the right path. I just want to kick this path’s ass, you know?

I know that experiences like this are for my own good. They will make me stronger.

I’m just ready to be strong enough.

I need to believe in my kick-assery ability.

And I need sleep.

And I need to stop thinking at night.

And I need a hug.

And maybe, I need some ice cream.