Unsuccessfully successful

Now that I'm done with this IEP process for this year (with the exception of actually receiving the paper) and finishing an Assistive Technology evaulation...I am feeling like myself again.

Feeling like myself.  What does that mean?  Hmm.  I'm happy, really happy.  What else?  I'm less stressed, less under the gun, less feeling like I have to be justified in my forever quest to help my son.  But...I've realized, I'm still worried.

I'm Irish.  Technically speaking I'm adopted, so not sure how much 'Irish' my DNA is but my true self is 100% Irish, just like my parents.  Like my Irish Grandmas, I worry.  I worry about anything and everything.  I think I will post the stupid things I worry about just for a good laugh one day...and so my friends who read this can laugh with me while we are out together...some are really really stupid: Yellowstone's MegaVolcano eruption, anyone?

Well...at work we got a mandatory invitation for an 'organziational update' just for my team.  Shoot.  I love my situation right now; I love my manager; I love working from home; I love my volume of work.  I don't want this to change, but my head says it's okay - change will happen & we will rise to the occassion, we always do.  But the meeting was cancelled and nothing more was said (yet).  And even though I can tell myself it will end up okay, my core remains little twisted with worry...what is going to change?

My dear friend helped me confirm that I don't like anything that is not in my control, which is why I have this subdued panic about this re-org at work.  I shared with her some insight that I don't like anything that is out of my control, because I am afraid to fail.  Afraid to fail (stress: Afraid).  She didn't realize this, but she admitted it sure does explain a lot.  Yep, it sure does!

Fail...it's such a harsh word.  And who determines if I fail or not?  I don't have report cards anymore, so I don't have it documented in my face I didn't live up to someone's expectations.  I'm an upstanding citizen, so I don't have to justify my actions to really anyone in society.  I'm a good family member, so I know my family supports me in my choices and actions.  But...in my life, I haven't failed too much.  Don't get my wrong, this doesn't mean I'm perfect, oh not in the least!  I'm surely not perfect, but I feel I'm always in control, which makes me believe I can ensure success in what I'm trying to achieve (stress: believe).

I've convinced myself if I work hard and stay in control, I can guarentee success, or at least some success.  But, reflecting on all my recent 'successes', like the IEP, I really I think I've just become obsessed and overly focused.  Not to discount my hard work and my achievements, but I wonder if the amount of worry, work, research, or even advocacy I've spent on things was really just Irish luck & all my blessings.  I believe I'm so lucky and blessed, and I do say that often.

Shucks.  Are all the hours of preparation, research...obsession...fruitless?  Would the outcome have been the same?  Not everything in life should be in my control to guarentee my 'success.'  Knowing this I think will help me 'control' that constant worry, and hopefully this compulsion that if I just work harder things will come out in my favor.  I want to learn to color outside the lines and have it be okay.

I came to this realization Friday night while talking to Wonderful Husband about the evaulation that the child psychologist shared with us after the eldest's re-evaulation.  One of the doctor's points really stuck out to me; I'm always concerned how much our eldest doesn't want to put himself out there & try things...and I know it's from lack of self-confidence.  I asked him how we could help him to be more self-confident which he explained comes from success.  He commented that our eldest probably doesn't have a lot of success to pull from; basic success like interacting with people, success in playing things, doing things, walking, jumping...success in getting his point across with us when he wants something.  Okay - we can start to change that...and will.  Again...I will work harder at it and I will be successful...this time, I think it's okay to think this and start to drive myself.

Our conversation then changed a bit and that is when the realization hit.  I realized I'm not running a race this weekend with Wonderful Husband because "I'm not trained."  Another excuse could be that we need someone watch the kids...and bring them to dance class.  But really...trained = perfect.  Perfect, not flawless (don't get me wrong), guarentees success, I should probably say confidently prepared.  I realized I would like to run the races, but last time I did, my boyfriend at the time, won those races.  Yes, he was perfect at racing (not perfect in other ways).  But my point is, he didn't fail, he was justifiably successful.  My parents are even running this race in their upper 60s, and I'm really proud of them.  Why am I not not joining in?  Why am I hesitant to commit to running some pretty cool Chicago races with my fantastic cousins?

Summer of 2011 I ran a Warrior Dash, it was the best feeling on earth.  I wasn't prepared, I wasn't trained.  I wasn't supposed to run it, but the night before the race, took the place of my fantastic cousin who hurt herself rollerblading.  I didn't win it, I didn't finish in a pre-determined timeframe, but I DID it.  I was unpreparedely successful and it felt great.  I accomplished it with no measure of passing or failing.  I felt like I could do anything...wow, what confidence I had!

I have to break this cycle of needing not to fail.  I know if my job changes and I have to quit it's not failing.

Step one: Admitting it...Okay - I did that.

Step two: Commit to my fantastic cousin that I'll be her partner in a cool outdoor race in WI this summer.  Okay - done.  Now, we just need to register.

Step three: This is going to be HARD!  It may be laughable that it's hard because it appears such a stupid reason, but it's really hard for me to do.  I'm going to sign up for an art class this summer at the Arts Center.

Thursday night I was convinced to take Zumba this summer.  Exercise is supposed to help stress & well...weight loss will help me get in shape to run races, fit in my bathing suit...you get it...a whole cycle of not failing.  I had the Zumba class already marked on my calendar.  Now, instead of Zumba, which I'm pretty confident I can do at an 'acceptable' level (get it?  NOT fail), I'm going to instead sign up for an painting class.

I've always wanted to sign up for drawing or painting, but I am really not artistic and I stink at coordinating colors.  There it is again!  The new me rising up from inside yells: "Says who?"  So I'm going to make myself sign up for an art class and give it a shot.

Even if my artwork doesn't end up super great or match with any decor in my house, I'm committing now to hanging them up to remind me that I can be unsuccessfully successful.  I think I'll hang it up right next to the pictures from the 2011 Warrior Dash that are on my dresser, so I can look at them every day and remind myself that I have confidence and I can be successful, even if I am not fully prepared.