No wonder I bombed my classes in the years before I moved. I can hardly keep up now, with one job and classes I love. Just too many assignments and tests and such--at least one major thing every week, in addition to the daily stuff. Not that I'm really complaining, because I really am enjoying it. But I should probably stop being so hard on myself about those two years I totally flaked, because I was taking more classes then and going through an endless series of chaotic events. And then I was depressed, and then I made some bad decisions, so I'm behind the "usual" curve.

Sometimes I just feel like crap because I'm not hitting those societal milestones; but you know what? That's okay. I'm happy (aside from the weird slump I'm in now), and I've had some great experiences and some bad ones, and I've made good mistakes and bad ones. I don't have to adhere to a specific timeline for accomplishing things. What I'm feeling about it is actually similar to the process of adjusting to fat acceptance--similar feelings about "should" and "shouldn't" and self-hate about "should have". It's similar also because it's a recurring battle. I still fight diet thoughts sometimes, and I still fight failure thoughts sometimes.

But the thing about considering myself a failure? That would mean I'd given up on still achieving whatever it is.