Anger vs Pain

This makes the third time I have tried to write this blog and I can't find the right words. The past 24 hours I have felt a wide range of emotions, none of which I like. I find myself between anger and tears most of the time. Angry at myself and God. I've never wanted to know what it felt like to have your dreams crash down around you or to have everything you worked hard for fall right outside your reach, but it seems to be one that loves to find me. Eight years. 2,920 days. That's how long I've worked for my goal just to see it fly right out the window, along with several others.

• In eighth grade I wanted to march with the high school. An honor only for a select few at the top of their section, until my year came. Who got to march? First, second and fifth chair. I was third.
• My freshman year I wanted to make regionals. I got 5Th place by a scratch at a height lower than what I had done the week before. Top four go to regions.
• My sophomore year I wanted to win states. I got third, when my height the weekend before would have won it and a scratch would have gotten me 2ND.
• My junior year I wanted to win states again, but the same thing happened as the year before.
• My senior year was hard. In between injury and frustration my goal was to medal. I fell short on that one too.
• My senior year I wanted to play for county and move up chairs, since we hadn't had a chair test in four years. I was placed right back at 3rd when I knew I deserved 2ND. (Especially after I beat her by 15 chairs at districts.) Top two went to county.

Ever since my senior year in high school my goal was to jump 11 feet. Two years went by and I was struggling with 10, so I finally made a deal with God. If I jumped at least 10 feet my sophomore year of college I would stay on the team. I jumped 10' 3 at a home meet. The deal was sealed.

• My junior year I wanted to place at conference and PR. I no heighted at outdoor.
• My senior year I wanted to jump 11 feet and place at conference. Yet another dream that came crashing down around me... Much harder than the ones before it.

I'm starting to think that maybe dreams and goals aren't worth it. Mine never seem to come true, or even close to it. Not because the talent and ability aren't there, they are and always have been, which seems to make it worse. I just never reach my goal. I'm good enough, I always have been and that's not the issue. Which in turn has made me question God. Why have I worked so hard to end up right where I started? What was the point of all that sweat, blood, practice, determination, and injury to not achieve my goals? Why have you left me when I needed your help? I've blamed myself for years, but I don't think it's me. As much as that sounds like trying to blame someone else, I really don't. Why would I jump 11 feet in practice hundreds of times, but never jump 10' 6 in a meet? I have the ability and I've competed enough to not let that get in the way. Even when I barely hit the bar, and have seen it stay with a bigger hit than that, it will fall. What is marked on my forehead that says I'm not supposed to reach my goals? To have them all snatched away when my finger tips are just starting to brush it.

Disappointment. Devastation. Hurt. Anger. Frustration. Those don't seem to even begin to cover it. According to my record, I should be used to this by now, but I'm not and every time it happens it just gets worse. Maybe dreams and goals are a waste of time.