There's a Shark in my Bed . . .

Failure. I don’t think there’s a person who has ever not been afraid of failing at something. That’s why mirrors and spell check were invented. We've all been there, failure. Some of us a lot more times then we’d like to admit. 

We all fall short of the social normal. Some of us trip; some of us full-on faceplant. There’s normal failing, like being late, forgetting things, and stupid crap like that. No one really holds little failures against you, unless you do them a lot.

Then there's middle failures, which are worse. Failing a test, failing a class, these failures do not make you a failure, but you can only do them once before the stink gets hard to wash off. 

Then there's failures you only have to do once before you become a failure yourself. Like driving drunk and killing someone, cheating on your spouse with multiple people, failing college, etc. That’s a thought, isn't it? That you could fail at something (or a lot of somethings) so much, that you are now yourself a giant walking failure.  That's the ultimate fear.

There are some people who will literally kill not to fail. Wall Street CEO's shooting mistress to ensure their silence, mob bosses, all the Hollywood villains. In my opinion, they’re only a little insane for doing so. Honestly, if I could have killed someone to cover up my freshmen year in college, I’d have considered it.

So much of the value we give ourselves is based upon how successful we've been at not failing. But the good news is that society is built upon avoiding failure. Now, don’t read that as “society wants you to succeed.” I mean “society doesn't want you to fail.” Failure really is a concept. Failure is someone noticing that you have screwed the pooch. You know, pics, or it didn't happen.

What I'm saying is, you can fail: 

But until someone notices that you screwed up, you’re not screwed. 

You see the idea isn't that you have actually succeeded in not being an idiot, it’s that you nobody saw you being an idiot. This idea, that the failure is not a failure until someone else sees it, is dangerous. It makes you think you can live a perfect life when really, you're just good at hiding. I have attempted this method myself. 

At first I figured  failures were like needy friends. Sure, they’d crash on your couch and eat your food, but eventually they’d leave. But failure isn't like that. 

Failure is an ever growing aquarium. It’s little at first, and there’s just a few fish in there. 

Honestly, if you didn't have to feed them every once in a while, you’d forget you had pets. But then time goes by, and you get a few more fish.

It’s okay though, you don’t even have to feed the fish, they’ll take care of themselves (there’s an ecosystem now). 

And little by little the aquarium grows.

And grows. 

And grows.

Until one day. . . 

 You wake up and realize you’re living in a shark tank.

The fish have evolved into failure sharks that have taken over you life, and living room. Suddenly you realize with dead certainty, that no one is ever going to come into your house again because the failure sharks are hungry and ready to consume anything they can get in their giant greedy jaws. So this is when you drain the tank and kill the sharks, right? Opt for a nice golden retriever?

Nope.

Instead, you rent an apartment, nothing expensive, and you fill it with other things. 

You fill it with nice things, happy things. 

And whenever you want to have people over to your “house” you take them to your apartment. And everyone oohs and ahs at how well adjusted you are. The apartment is failure free, and you have so many nice things. Your problem is solved.

Except that it isn't  Your house is still a shark tank, and you can’t get rid of it (no one is going to buy an illegal shark tank). No matter how much you love your apartment, and how much other people love your apartment, it’s not your home. Your good friends know that you don’t actually live there. You tell them you've got some issues, but not about your marine biology. And every night, when everyone’s left, you make the long trip home, pop on an oxygen tank, and sleep in your watery grave.

This is your new life. 

And then one day, you meet someone, someone really great. At first, they like your apartment, but this person is special and smart.

“So where do you live?”
“What? This is my house.”
“No, this is your apartment. Where’s your home?”

You can’t fight them off forever. Special people are hard to fight. Little by little, you tell them about your house.

“Well, I live in a house.”

“A house?”

“Yeah, but, um, it has some pests.”

“Well, yeah everybody gets bugs every once in a while.”

“Well, no, not bugs . . .”
“Then, what?”
“My house is full of sharks.”

Special Person is surprised, but since they are special, they understand. Special people have a way of staying with you. One night, when you are especially tired and not paying attention, Special Person follows you from your apartment, to your house. The last place you want Special Person to be is on your soggy front lawn, but there they are, being special.

“Can I come in?”

What are you supposed to do? You must protect Special Person. Your house is a dangerous shark-ridden Atlantis of misery and woe that you haven’t cleaned in at least a week. They can never know.

“Um . . . you really shouldn't.”

“But I want to see where you live.”

“It’s not that great. We could hang out in my apartment.”

“ Please?”

When a special person says please, you must obey. 

It’s a universe rule.

You let Special Person into your house and you watch their face drain. That’s right special person, I’m roommates with Jaws. This is when you discover just how special your person is. Normal people run away from sharks, but not special people. You see, special people have one flaw: they are very brave. 

Special people look at your sharks and they say I’m not afraid. But you are. You’re afraid that the sharks will eat Special Person. This is a common problem. Sharks attack special people and chew the special clean off, sometimes resulting in permanent damage.

Sure enough, the two of you sit down to watch Arrested Development and along comes Sharky to nibble on Special Person’s head.  Special Person says it doesn't hurt, but you know better. Shark bites sting. You have your shark bites, you know, from living in a shark tank with cranky sharks. 

Your family has them too. For a long time Special Person is brave, but you know that they can’t make it here like you can. Weeks pass and you see Special Person getting shark bite scars almost as bad as yours and your family's. 

You know what you have to do. You kick Special Person out of your house.

“Can I come back in?”

“No! The sharks will eat you, Special Person!”

“I don’t mind.”

“Well I do. Go away.”

“Can I stay if the sharks leave?”

What? Your failure sharks have been here so long you forgot they were once just fish. You were the one who kept feeding them, and sure, you didn't kick them out, but . . . can you do that now? Can you get rid of failure?

The answer isn't simple. You’ll never be able to get rid of the scars you have. There are always consequences for having sharks in your house. But which is worse: the scar of a shark bite, or living in a house of sharks? Some sharks you can kick out on your own with hard work. Some sharks swim away with time. Sometimes you have you bring other people into your house to get rid of them. But little by little, you can regain control of your house. A  lot of the time, it’s not easy. Sharks don't like to be kicked out. 

And as soon as people find out you have sharks in your house (mother freaking SHARKS) you get a lot of judgment. Friends may not admit to knowing you. People may even stop visiting your apartment.

But you know what, screw those people. You didn't want those sharks in your house, you didn't ask for those sharks in your house. They were mistakes. Anyone who says they haven’t had a home pest problem is lying. And just because they only have termites and not great white sharks, doesn't make them a better homeowner.

Ok, if we were talking about literal sharks, then yes, termite girl wins, but we’re not.


You are going to fail a lot growing up. 

Angering a Hive of Monkeys

Forgetting to Write a Paper

Gaining a Freshmen 15 . . . or 30

Wearing Pj's as Clothes

Not Controlling Your Impulses 

Writing A Blog

But my point is that if you hold onto those failures and shut them up inside of you, they’re going to eat you alive.  You need to let them go, which is hard. You've got to admit that you have failed, even if no one saw it. And you have to change. That may mean letting Special Person help you kick out the sharks, or it may mean asking Special Person to leave, so they can be safe. Life’s hard like that. But admitting that your failures are hurting you, or even that they happened, is the first step of getting them out of your life.

But What if people find out?

It’s my fault they’re here. I need to keep them around so they remind me not do it again.

I don’t know how to get rid of them.

What sharks?

You need to get rid of the sharks folks. Call professionals if you need to.

Failure is an option.