So Why Am I So Fragile Lately?

I'm a grown man. Moreover, I'm a grown man who knows a fair amount about himself, and who has a number of good qualities. I'm strong, and centered, and grounded. To sum up: in a lot of ways, I freakin' rock.

So why am I so fragile lately? Why does the slightest bump send me spiraling into the depths of despair and self-loathing? Why do I so readily conclude that sucking is not only the way things are now, but also the way they'll always be and the way I deserve for them to be?

I don't want the slightest comment that I can remotely interpret as containing even a touch of criticism to shatter me into a million pieces. I don't want to be so afraid to risk receiving criticism that I refuse to try to make things better--and then conclude that things will always be this way and that I deserve for them to be this way.

I'm like a broken vase that's held together not with Super Glue but with Elmer's School Glue. Look at me wrong, and I fall apart. I'd much rather be---not a granite pillar, those are too rigid and brittle. More like an oak tree: planted firmly, standing strong, and able to bend and sway if needed. But highly resistant to shattering.

SO, since I create my reality by controlling my perceptions and reactions, here begins my de-vasification and my re-oakification. Dammit.

Because I'm making myself want to vomit with this whole vase thing.