Recently I had to meet with a potential client (sales meeting). It was actually I who proposed the meeting. I’ve done plenty of selling via e-mail but always find a face-to-face meeting a compelling opportunity to size each other up.

Although I had nothing to fear from such a meeting, the night before a deep anguish set over me. At first, it was a sensation of pain in my head and throughout my being (I’m often in raw pain that includes headaches since I started this blog to get in touch with my issues). But focusing on the source led me to determine it was anguish.

Let’s be honest. Every interview we do for a job; every contact of a sales nature is an opportunity to be rejected. We are opening ourselves up to the greatest of social risk. I’d never met this man before and had no idea how he’d react to me (my personal presentation issues are something many instinctively pick up on). Recently I’ve tried embracing my vulnerability and telling myself that no matter what happens, I must accept myself.

The funny thing is, my condition is reminiscent of a mythological tale. Here I am, in my mid-forties and at the top of my professional game. And yet, I suffer each and every time like it’s all something new. What am I, a baby? (You’d be forgiven for coming to this conclusion while reading my blog.) So, each day brings the sunrise and each day also brings the eagle to fly next to my chained body and tear out my liver. It then flies away, only to return at the beginning of the next day.

I’m a guy who therefore can’t learn from his experiences, and is always stuck in middle school as an alienated preteen.

The wounds that scar

The morning before the meeting the pain had grown more intense. If it were a sound, it’d be an amped-up version of its previous state the day before. Thinking about this, my mind descended into a reverie of past experiences. Suddenly the story of Ignatius of Loyola bubbled up. I had enjoyed reading his story about 15 years ago and will never forget it.

Ignatius of Loyola had a previous life and identity before his founding of the Jesuits and canonization. He had apparently been a senior soldier in the service of some duke or king. In this life, he had far different aims than that of helping people. During the siege of a city, he had suffered grievous wounds and it was doubtful he would survive. During a long and painful convalescence he turned to meditation and eventually developed his own kind of spirituality. He became a monk and eventually went on to found his own order.

As I thought about this fascinating life, I realized that what I have are wounds that haven’t healed. I mean, they’ve healed to some extent but not really; they are a part of my identity and give me the feelings of lack of confidence around people, sensations of hurt and pain, and the desire to be alone despite my longings for the contrary.

At the core of the wound is sadness. This is deep within my being and defines who I am. A few people have pointed this out from time to time, saying I “often look sad.” Well, I am sad, as a person. And it’s not just sadness for it’s own sake. It has the quality of some horrible pain or rejection that I don’t understand. This is why my issues have lingered for so long in life, and why I haven’t been able to get proper treatment.

The actual meeting with the guy went without a hitch and he expressed interest in my services. After the meeting, I wondered what all the fuss inside me had been about. Nevertheless I experienced pain throughout the rest of the day, as if I had irritated the wound, perhaps poked a stick in it. I guess my perpetual sadness reminds me of my humanity, but my God does it make me miserable. No wonder I tried to shut it out all these years. An open question is what to do with it. The therapists talk about tolerance of negative emotions. OK fine, but be aware that when the core of your being is (seemingly) perpetual pain and sadness, it can be quite a bleak life indeed.

Regarding learning to tolerate negative emotions, how long will I have to wait, a lifetime? On the other hand, while it’s true that existance can be painful, what alternative is there? I’ve tried to think of myself in terms of multiple fake personas, and while they seem to fit and make sense sometimes, I can easily get confused nowadays about who I should be in a given situation. It’s better to try to be myself and just stop thinking about how I appear to others.