Half-Anxious, Half-Sad

I failed today.

I came home crying after being awake for more than 24 hours from processing what I thought was an easy application. It was for a driver’s license. I don’t know, I guess I was overly confident that I would pass the written test. I believed people too much when they said that it was going to be a piece of cake. I processed my application for nearly 8 hours and succumbed to rude officers just to get through it. I was really disappointed with myself, although I kind of saw it coming after taking the test. I immediately realized I should have prepared more. I shouldn’t have felt invincible. I should have prepared more.

The last time I remember failing was 6 years ago, when I first applied for a job. Just fresh out of college, I was a 19-year old feeling very optimistic about what was ahead of me, so you could just imagine how crushed I was when I got my first “no”, and then some. I remember walking around Ortigas going to the nearest bus station and humming the song “Loser” by Beck (blame Glee) while facing the dark clouds, probably singing it to a god. It was 8PM, and my first time going to the business districts of the metro.

“I’m a loser, baby. So why don’t you kill me?”

Typing these words makes me feel that this may seem petty. But the thing is, failing has always been my fear. That’s also why whenever I consider applying for a promotion, I make sure that everything about my records is squeaky clean and I would have a good say about my rep because I don’t want anything to fuck up. I make sure that when I apply, I’d be the bigger candidate. Arrogant? Maybe. Too careful? YES.

I know that I can retake the test but one more failure and the next try will be in 12 months. I’m having anxiety just by thinking about it. Maybe I didn’t prepare today because I started feeling more confident about my strengths? Or maybe it’s just that I don’t want to be scared of taking risks for once? Either way, it was a careless decision— something that I don’t normally make. And that’s what saddens me: That one time when you took a leap of faith and a risk but it turned out bad so you go back to being fearful.

What I only know now is that I will try again and I won’t shy away from that rejection letter I received. But I will be more ready, and I will put my shit together this time. I will bring my heartbroken self back to that exam room and make sure I get things right the second time. I may be less confident now about this, but I’m still hopeful.

Give me a pat on the back, will you? 🙂

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