Becoming a Failure at 21: What I’ve learned

If 21 is the age when you snap out of your childish daze, set goals and start working toward building a future, then I’ve been 21 for the past 5 years.

21 is the start of so many people’s lives. For me, it seemed like the end.

I had my first mental breakdown at 16. I was in my first year of university, studying a course I had zero interest in while going through one of the scariest experiences in my life.

I was either too naïve or too positive for my own good because I interpreted my mental breakdown as the start of something good. Five years later, I’m having my 20th mental breakdown over failing to achieve most of my goals. And because most of my goals were identity oriented, my whole being feels like a failure.

I do not write this post to complain to you.

Post breakdown, I started looking inward and outward for something meaningful to do with my life, so I sat myself down and decided to do something with my life. I wrote down about 7 goals to achieve before the age of 21.

I started a blog, writing about personal development tips I’ve been using to further my personal growth. I didn’t know I liked writing then but starting a blog just for fun has crossed my mind several times before.

It was semester break, so I started writing about anything I wanted in preparation for a more meaningful life. Throughout that year, as I wrote articles about what I was struggling with and tips that helped me, I found myself delving deeper into the personal development niche, which validated my need to fulfil something so big.

I mean, if you were able to change/improve yourself so you can achieve your goals, why not. So, I dedicated my time to it.

Years later, I have one blog deleted and one left unattended.

Over the past five years, I’ve had small successes with many of my goals, body, monetary, mental health, personal development, and writing career, but in between were so many failures.

There’s no goal I haven’t achieved to some degree, but it’s not enough to say I’ve succeeded because here I am, unable to tick goals off my to-do list, except one.

I graduated last week with First-class honors in Electrical and Electronics engineering. 4th in my department.

My only success, yet it matters not.

If it doesn’t feel like success, it’s probably failure right?

Here’s what I’ve learned, though:

1. I set myself up for failure

The moment I wrote down my goals, I failed myself. While it is good to dream, I probably did not consider timeline, limitations, funding, balancing life, mental health struggles, obstacles, changes in the economy, or even my talents; otherwise, I would have either reduced my expectations or given myself a longer timeline.

With each small failure, a part of me died. The first ones didn’t faze me, as I knew success doesn’t happen overnight. But mental health struggles did, panic attacks did, and changes in the economy did.

The worst part was that so many of the struggles were beyond my control, so no matter how I beat myself up for it, I could not get to where I wanted to be.

But again, how do you consider those things? What do you do if you find out about them too late?

What I didn’t do was adjust my goals because every time I did that, I reduced the distance between me and the moon. So, I searched for the next thing to help me achieve my goals, and obviously, none of them worked.

2. I have limitations

here’s a truth I’ll save you from before you go through it yourself. Coming to the realization that you have trauma or a disability is worse than going through them.

On my 21st birthday, I was diagnosed with ADHD. Five months before that, I realized I was in abusive relationships. Apparently, I have a talent for lying to myself and acting like everything is okay. When it wasn’t.

It made so much sense to me when I spoke to my psychologist; so many of the things that led to my breakdown and epiphany to pursue personal development were part of my development disorder.

Meaning — this is the worse part — that I cannot fix it. There’s a scale of limitations, of course, and while I’ve pushed the needle a bit, there is an end to my capabilities, even with treatment. So, it would make sense to remove some goals from my list.

I have not done that yet.

Other ‘limitations/ deficiencies/ weaknesses I have are due to complex PTSD, but again, because of the economy and the state of the country I live in, it’ll be a while and will cost a lot to get the treatment that will help me, so, yet again, I fail.

3. I may never be able to achieve my goals

Because of limitations and because I may not want to anymore. We grow, our priorities and likes change and so do our goals. So if I decide not to pursue a certain goal, I’ve failed at it, right? Not in life mind you, but if I say I’ll do something and I don’t, either because I’m lazy or because I don’t want to, it’s the same thing, right?

4. Success doesn’t matter

The one thing I succeeded at, my first-class degree that got me accepted into my dream top 10 school, doesn’t matter.

I don’t feel happy about it. I worked for it, but since the suffering is gone, I feel like I didn’t suffer for it at all, so I don’t deserve it.

It’s a state I switch to depending on my mood, but I honestly don’t feel proud. I’m content with it, but that’s all.

Other small successes I’ve had, writing for an award-winning app, being a contributor to an online magazine, and earning income freelancing, even after I worked hard for them, don’t matter to me anymore.

I must think hard to remember them honestly. They are just memories, and I feel like it was a different me that achieved them.

What joy will achieving my other bigger goals get me then? If there’s no joy, then I’m working hard for nothing.

5. Failure doesn’t feel as bad as it sounds

You never fail in life; you just feel like you do. Unless you are out of food and shelter, then it’s not that bad. You can make new goals and start afresh. You can decide you just want to live, a simple day-to-day, modest job, earnings, a family, and that’s it.

I do feel like a failure, though, because right now, I don’t know what I want. I’m trying again, but it’s not really working out. Maybe realizing my limitations caused them to manifest even more.

I feel something between sad, numb, content, and tired. And I feel like I’m losing hope. That’s the worst part, say my life is supposed to start now, what if I fail again, like the last five years, and then no one will tell me that my life is just starting out? I’ll be an adult.

Adults must do something with their lives.

On the other side, I feel like maybe I will succeed, and all this will be a motivational story to read on stage after collecting my inventor of the year award (another goal I’ve failed at because I wanted to be a child prodigy).

I want to laugh at myself for writing that.

I never thought I’d be a cynic. I’ve always been the positive, dream-big kind of girl, and now I don’t know what I want anymore. I don’t know the difference between impossible dreams, and if your dream doesn’t scare you, it’s not big enough.

This may be what being realistic is.

When I learned about Tesla, I never imagined this is what 1000 failures would feel like.

He’s strong for trying harder.

I hope I wake up one day and decide I want to work toward my goals again.

But how far will I be able to go if I don’t get my limitations sorted out?

Failure sucks. And I’m going to wallow in it for a bit.

6. Just like success, failure depends on what you measure

By measuring my goals based on the few goals I’ve outlined: body, wealth, community, etc. It makes sense to conclude I have failed.

But it’s not enough to say I have failed in life.

What of the goals I want measuring? The opportunities I had that I never dreamed of.

What of the personal growth I’ve been through? The people I helped?

I feel excited as I remember that my course is being viewed by over 1 million users of the Journey app, that I get emails from girls telling me how they’ve applied my personal development tips and how it has helped them.

What of the fact that I have matured though a lot of the things I’ve been through and I can proudly say that while I’m more realistic now, but I still believe in the beauty of people and the world.

That I value what should be valued.

That I’m very self aware and I have increased my self esteem and confidence dramatically.

That I have the strength to get up after whatever new trial I am facing.

What importance is my failure in chasing worldly things if all the important people are saying none of those things matter.

My main goal was to become a better version of myself that is able to overcome her limitations and create the life of her dreams.

I am definitely in a better place to see my goals through now. I’m still on my journey, failure should be something I’m considering unless I want an excuse to give up.

I am not giving up.