Failure.
When I first graduated with my bachelor's degree after seven years of in and out of school, many degree switches, and goal-interfering behaviors, I finally got my first job in my field. Little did I know that first job was going to be working at a group home with adolescent boys whom had a criminal rap sheet larger than grown men I would later work with. The funniest part of the job was that the first time I went in for the interview I had to take a basic math exam, which I failed. My pride interfered with my ability to conduct basic, elementary-level mathematics and budget a grocery ledger. "I'm sorry Mr. Meier, you failed the math test, you are not eligible for hire at this time." The words shook through my body, crumbled my foundation, made me reflect on every other inadequacy that was now exposed. Pain searing through my temples, a throbbing that made me want to lash out at him, the HR guy (whom later became a Facebook friend). I wanted to hurt someone, I wa...