Lose. Loss. Lost.

Posted on: April 11, 2012

I don’t handle loss very easily.

Today, I lost an earring.

My first reaction was to press my nose to the ground and sniff loudly, then chase the scent as far as it would go. Well seriously speaking, I mainly retraced my step, furrowed my brows and stared at the ground. It didn’t help knowing I traversed long distances to get to my office, including transferring at two train interchanges and taking a five-minute walk from the train station.

Chances are, the earring is as good as gone.

But do I falter? No. I intend to retrace my steps from office to home. I suppose this is meant to put my mind at further unease… After all, like I said, that accessory could well be retrieved by another owner (“Oooh, pretty green fish earring, I wonder how it’ll fit into my box of lost and found, mismatched earrings!”), washed away by torrential rain (it has been raining relentlessly for the past two days) or gone without a trace.

Wow, this article is becoming whiny and pointless.

What my point really is, that my lack of letting go of loss is due to my reproaching perfectionism. All of life (Well, most accurately after the point where rationalism sets in. Never mind my infantile years.), I’ve been ruled under the thumb of self-defined expectations and reproaching myself whenever I hit anywhere below the goal. Just take this earring incident as an example:

A lost earring prompts to self: this carelessness could have been avoided. If I left my house earlier, didn’t run out of the house in a huff, I would have wore my earring more carefully. I normally think of several blame tactics to play up the trivality of the matter.

“Seriously?!” My mom would probably exclaim. “You could wear a fisherman on the other ear now that one side is missing…” (This was meant as a joke, since the earring I lost was a green fish.)

I was literally getting upset (reduced to tears, almost) over a material possession.

This scarily speaks volumes of my personality.

Do I chase materiality? Do I care so much about face value? Have I came into terms with the way I look?

I have begun to believe these little outbursts of terror, sweating over the small stuff in life is much of a manifestation of insecurity, an insecurity I am keeping supressed and stubbornly refusing to admit.

Well, now that I’ve gotten this thought out in the open… The question remains.

Do I keep looking for the missing earring?


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