I’m wrong

               Yup, I’ve been proven wrong on something. No, it’s not what you think, this isn’t about me confessing about it – the proof was so good I’m banging my head on the wall. Again. Actually, I’ve been doing that for days now. There’s really no way to spin this around, there’s no way to dodge the bullet. It’s all my fault. I’ve been proven so wrong, I’m actually dusting off my textbooks. Only one thing was left unsaid – that I should be going back to school, it’s that bad. So what?

               I’m wrong about something. What else is new? Were you expecting a nervous breakdown? Should I start crying and babbling? Of course not. I’m wrong, you’re right. Good. Keeps me humble. There’s no reason to think of it as a full-blown identity crisis, even if you feel I ought to. I admit it, I should have known better. It should have been obvious. It wasn’t, not to me, not at that particular time. It’s not a threat to my ego, it’s not a threat to my value, it’s not a threat, period – but you think it is, or ought to be. Why? I’m not ashamed of screwing up. I don’t feel guilty about it – I’ve thought of it for days, it was something I didn’t remember so what other conclusion was there for me? Without remembering that particular issue I could never have made a different prediction. Is it my fault, forgeting it? You betcha. Should I go into exile because I forgot it? Never.

               I screwed up, I admit it. I take full responsibility for that failure. What can be fixed, will be – and it’s been fixed already. I’m taking active steps to correct my faulty memory. What can’t be fixed is your opinion of me, that one’s yours to fix, if you want to. I don’t really place much value on it, not because you’re not important or because your opinion is irrelevant, but because that would mean taking charge of something that isn’t mine to take over. I’m not Einstein, though even he did make mistakes. If my reputation is something that will take a dive because I’ve been making a huge arse of myself in public then, believe me, it isn’t that much of a reputation to begin with. I’m not valuable to my employer because I don’t make mistakes, I’m valuable to my employer because I can survive them, because my mistakes are an exception and not a rule. I make mistakes, I learn from them, I go on. I’m not a saint so why would you even assume I’m perfect?

               It’s not really a question whether I make mistakes or not, because I sure as hell make them, lots of them. It’s not that I don’t feel bad about it, because I do. I just won’t crucify myself over them, blow them out of proportion. I used to do that, I used to fear what people would say or think about me more than the actual mistakes I’d make and it’s not a good way of dealing with it. My sanity is worth more than other people’s opinion of me, I’ve learned that the hard way. Depression, anxiety, low self-esteem, all start with that one. I’m more than my current job, I’m more than just the results of my work. Or less, that’s debatable depending on what end of the gun barrel you’re staring at. I’ve been through a hell of a lot worse than that. When shit happens to me, I deal with it, not you. You don’t get to say how I should feel. Nobody else but me gets an input there. You get to name my punishment, yes. You might even think I should have it worse, yet my mind is mine alone. If I have to take a pay cut, I will, it’s my crap I’m dealing with so I’m ok with that. You’re welcome to hit the bullet points yourself on whatever punitive measures apply here. Yet, how I deal with the consequences is my choice. I could have yelled, I could have denied it, I could have done any number of things others have been trying on in the process of weaseling out. I don’t do that. Take your best shot, I’m not hiding and not moving out of sight. That’s my choice, also. You don’t get to make choices for me.

               Well, that’s that, for me. I appologized, I’m back to reading things I once took for granted, I fixed my crap. I’ve learned from it and move on. If you think I need to suffer more, I couldn’t care less. It’s my health and sanity I’m protecting, not your opinion of me. You think I should whine more? Why? You’d do that if you were in my shoes? Yeah, right. Anybody willing to judge character based on how much one shows remorse isn’t that good of a person. Looks can be deceiving, hell, you ain’t even judging character, you’re judging the gravity of it by looking at my body language. If you do that, you don’t really know how bad things are, it means you’re not even competent to know what punishment actually fits the crime. You just look for somebody to hammer down so you’ll feel good about yourself. Well, hammer away, but don’t think I’ll let you get inside my head. Nope, never gonna happen. If you can’t handle that, maybe you’re on the wrong side of the equation, this time. I’m not my mistakes, I’m not my failures just like I’m not my above-average results, I am exactly who I choose to be and that ain’t you. Are you?

Post scriptum:

It was all in my mind. The end.


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