I was at a meeting recently with my friend The Big Elk. He retired from a career that involved a lot of physical labor and, while he is in relatively good health for a guy in his 70s he understandably feels some aches and pains. Recently he put in a lot of hours on a project; far more than I could do at this point and I'm 15 years his junior.
The weekend rolls around and he plops down on the couch, which makes sense to me. Almost immediately, he feels guilty.
I understand this. I fall into the "It's never good enough" syndrome all of the time. It's one of the big reasons that I drank. I always set myself up to fail. I could never be satisfied with anything that I had accomplished. I couldn't live up to the impossibly high standards that I had set for myself.
It wasn't that everybody else was judging me by these ridiculous standards. It was all me. It's always all about me, living between my own two ears, in a ridiculous, nightmare world.
Take a nap, Big Elk -- you deserved it.
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