So I’m seeing a therapist. A lot of guys (and girls) see therapists. There’s nothing wrong with having a therapist on your payroll. My therapist is named Dr LaDonna Clarke. The doctorate is in psychology, not medicine, just to clarify.
Anyway, we talked about the concept of “enough”. As in good enough, strong enough, smart enough, etc. And how, instead of trying to beat myself up when I’m not the best at something, I need to sit back and say that I did enough. So I’m supposed to think about that and journal about it.
Um, no. It all reads real good when she says it, but when it comes down to how it actually happens in my life, in the real world of the EPL, enough isn’t enough. No, that doesn’t mean I expect to be perfect, but what it does mean is that when I’m not, there had better be something I can point to. Sometimes it’s me. Sometimes it’s not. If it’s outside my control, then, yeah, I did enough. But if it’s something wrong I did or something right I didn’t do, then, no, it wasn’t enough. And I can’t pretend like it was.
Maybe she’s trying to make a different point, something that I’m not quite grasping. But when your ERA is bigger than your shoe size, like mine was last week, then you have to say to yourself, “it isn’t enough.”
Speaking of enough–I took enough Vallium. Not enough to kill me but more than is healthy and, needless to say, I’m taking something else now (anaxapro). And of course I feel bad about it. It’s effing *embarrassing* to have people feeling sorry for you because they think you’re on the brink. And tiptoeing around the whole subject. Dammit, I’m fine. I made a mistake–well, okay, a *series* of mistakes–but no, I’m not ready to throw in the towel.
And *that* right there is the trouble I think Dr. Clarke was getting at. Sometimes I try too hard. I need to recognize that there is stuff I just can’t *do* and act accordingly. Maybe what she means is that if I try my best that the trying is enough, whether or not I succeed. You can’t measure “try” though. You can measure success and failure.
The good news is, on the road between success and failure, my pitching seems to be pointed in the right direction. Two shutouts in a row. And I’m stepping up the ladder of difficulty, though the next step’s a doozy. Lancaster.