The Chaos Continued, So Did Soccer… And Sonya

Even when I was able to claim academic success over her, my accomplishments were immediately diminished.

Scoring higher on homework, a quiz, or a test was chalked up to luck. Or there would be some other sort of explanation as to why I edged her out like she forgot about it and didn’t study much. Even when I was faced with something I thought I could be proud of myself for, I had external influences telling me that I still wasn’t meeting some unattainable standard. I think I always set the bar for myself at an unreachable level. But it seemed to be inched even further out of reach with each experience of inferiority. 

 

This seem to set off an internal dialogue that I still struggle with today: if you’re not first, you’re unimportant.

I could rephrase this several ways since not everything can be broken down into first place, second place, etc. but the idea of not being the best became abhorrent. And I could not emotionally handle failure to any extent; I would break down at home because I once again got edged out on an exam by a few points or my project didn’t win the blue ribbon. 

 

 

Chaos All the Way Down: Told by a Pharmacist

Chaos All the Way Down:

Addiction, Bipolar, Borderline Personality Disorder, Suicide, and Anxiety as Told by a Pharmacist

I think everyone has a defining moment in their lives. Whether it is out of tragedy, out of triumph, or as a means of getting through adversity, there is a single moment in life that can change you for good. I’d say most people experience that in their adult life. I, on the other hand, had mine when I was just 4 years old. A favorite story of my mother’s to tell about me revolves around my first soccer game. Like most kids, I started playing soccer at a young age for “fun.”

Or that is what I am told most kids were most interested in; having fun and getting snacks after the game. I guess somewhere along the way, I didn’t get that memo. During my very first game, I’m told that I scored quite a few goals, something most kids could be proud of I think. However, I came off the field that day in tears. When I approached my mother, she proceeded to ask me why I was bawling. My simple response was “We suck.” At the tender age of 4,

I was already an addict. Not the sort of addict that was doing lines in the pre-k bathroom, but an addict nonetheless. I was addicted to being the best and winning at all costs. This became rather apparent early on in my life and applied in every area. 

 

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