I like to think that making mistakes is a talent of mine. Everyone missteps every now and then, but my life’s track record tells me that when I do, I will likely be so severely punished for it.
I usually never know what I’m doing wrong until I’ve actually done it and am knee-deep in the consequences. I often feel entirely blind-sided.
Thus, I spend my life perpetually scanning and analyzing and re-analyzing every last little minute detail, trying to spot the stumbling blocks before I trip.
This works swimmingly well, but also causes frequent massive anxiety over misread situations.
The only solution, likely, is trust. It is so difficult to trust that I won’t be unwillingly thrust into some dark place again with only shouted echoes of the norms and mores I’ve broken (or my own confused retroactive puzzling to link the pieces together).
Sometimes, you just have to close your eyes and jump and hope like hell there’s a net waiting to catch you at the bottom.
When people show you who they are, it’s important you believe them: good or bad. I am quick to believe the worst; I need to learn to trust in the best.