Freaky failures haunt everyone, but honestly, I’m scared of the other ghosts. The terrible twins that few people talk about and even less understand. They like to wash up in tubs of axle grease, and plaster themselves to the sides of my dreams, my manifestations, and worst of all my wallet. I call them success monsters.
They creep up on me, but there’s no jump scare. They just sort of “show up” and “hang out.” They’re brilliant at creating self doubt around the time things start to go right for yours truly. You know the voice right? You’re gonna ruin everything. It’s way too good to be true. Your actually terrible at this. You and your stupid face aren’t actually worth THAT much money. They’re like two Eric Cartmans feeding off the safety of your collective mediocrity.
I know them well, because they’re Leo’s like me. I can tell, because they love attention. The weird thing is, they sound more like hyenas than lions. Weird, dead Eric Cartman-hyena hybrids. Thanks to The Lion King, we know lions hate hyenas, and thanks to South Park we all know Eric Cartman is evil. Their double devilry is totally screwing me up. My GOD that laugh is maddening.
So how do I deal with them?
By setting up a bro-date of course. It’s obvious to me that we’ve been in a long standing bromance for years, but I’ve been brotesting them both for pretty much forever. That’s obviously not working, so it’s time to show them some bro-love.
Never fear. It won’t take long. I’m gonna throw on something fancy. Then, when they show up attempting to drag me down to their level (which is of course death), I’ll stand firm and boldly tell them… MAYBE!
Not as dramatic as you thought I’m sure. I bet you might even find this advice counter intuitive. Even so, hear me out.
As a complete and total none expert psychology person, speaking from experience only, I can tell you that “maybe” has actually worked for me. It gives the gooey omens attention, it stops their flow of energy, and it gives my mind the gift of acceptance. After all, god forbid they get lucky and be right on the money. I could totally mess up.
The thing is though, once the acceptance sets in I don’t much care anymore. It flips this switch in my head, and brings me back to where I am right now which is, in a word, happy. The ghosts may spend eternity caring, but they are not happy. I begin to feel sorry for them, and therefore my love becomes genuine. Every time I’ve screwed up, I’ve always felt more alive because of it. So thank you mortified Cartman-hyena ghost hybrids. You might be kind of right. This ladder climb will probably kill me yet, but for now it’s fun looking out from such great heights. Thank you for helping me become who I want to be. You should know that when I do take that final fall I look forward to seeing you at the after-party with a drink in my hand. But I’ll be dead and loving it knowing I climbed as high as I could, and really enjoyed the view while it lasted.