I think I’m going to call this the year of the breakdowns. I feel like this has been a recurring theme in my life and in my writing lately — breaking down. And it’s embarrassing, really. But I have to write about it. Because I can’t write “Top 10 Ways to Fix Your Blog Posts” when I’ve just gotten down off of a two-hour crying jag.

And I am realizing that I’m not the only one. As I’m reading through all of your submissions to my question last week, I’m discovering that we all have hurts and pain in our businesses. We all have stuff that we struggle with. Maybe that’s uber-obvious to everyone, technically, but when you start reading real stories about real stuff that’s happening right now, it all becomes much more…real.

The pursuit and the prize

Starting a business — especially one that’s gorilla-glued onto your life’s passion — is a love story. In the beginning, you’re feverishly trying to catch their attention. You’re doing anything you can (and you’re doing most of it wrong). That part is painful enough in itself, but you just keep doing it, and eventually you do get some sort of attention. And maybe it works out. Maybe it’s a long-term, forever kind of thing.

Now you can go in one of many directions. You can delight in being together. Savor long dinners, bring flowers, relish the companionship. Always looking for ways to bring more joy and fullness to the relationship, but being comfortable in what it is now.

Or, you can start getting afraid of losing this great thing that you’ve got. You might start smothering your companion by being there every minute of the day, wearing yourself out in the process. Or you might start enviously checking out other, prettier people who walk in the room. You might start to try to keep up with them. Or worse, out-do them in your lover’s eyes.

Or maybe you finally got the guy or gal, which was going to fix everything, and then you realize that it absolutely doesn’t. And it was your only hope and now what?

It’s all ick. And it’s all based on fear.

The one thing I know

I’m secretly terrified that by writing posts like this, I’m going to be shouting into a cavernous, echo-y hole of “Oh crap. That sucks for you.” I’m scared that I’m going to end up branding myself as “that web person who cries all the time.” Or worse, “the whiney girl who got what she wanted and then started complaining about it on the internet.” So not professional, right?

But I believe in confession. Maybe I’m a glutton for punishment, but I do. I believe in bringing things to the light and watching magic happen. And mostly, I believe that I was meant to be here, doing this, now. Maybe not the cry-in-public part. But the passionate, love affair with my work part.

I’m going to continue accepting your confessions for another day or so — if you get this by email and you couldn’t see the form last week, you’ll have to click through. It’s all anonymous. My hope is that when I publish some of the answers, it will help give us all some perspective on the holes that maybe we can help fill.

Note: Today’s post is a bit out of the ordinary for me, but it’s what came out of a terrible, head-pounding day. We’ll get back to our regularly scheduled strategy-talk on Thursday.

Today was awful. I can actually say it was the worst day in the history of my entrepreneurial career. One of those days where the clouds are not only falling from the sky, but they are on fire.

It wasn’t any one conversation or thing-that-went-awry. It was everything. And it made me realize how dangerous it is to associate your sense of self so closely with your business. Because when those flaming arrows come falling from the sky, you have no helmet. Not even knee pads.

I’m not proud to admit it, but today I cried. Torrentially. (I think I just made that word up.) Despite the fact that Chris Brogan and my buddy Sparky Firepants think I’m doing it right, despite the fact that everyone is being so darned supportive and awesome, there are a few people who think I’m doing it wrong. And I don’t know why that sucks so bad, but it does.

Maybe you’ve had a day like that?

This is for you if anyone’s ever thrown flaming darts at your head (and yeah…this is for me)

• You are doing it right.
• If someone throws darts at you, don’t throw darts back. Even if it’s practically necessary, or if it’s just a subtle bit of sarcasm or eye-rolling. Darts are like boomerangs and eventually come back to poke the thrower in the eye.
• It’s good to look for the truth in criticism, but if there is any, and after you’ve extracted it, don’t dwell on it. Ask yourself what’s the best thing you can do now, and do it.
• “I don’t want to disappoint people” is not a good reason to say yes. YOU are worth saving from disappointment.
• You can’t run your business for everyone else. Even though you thrive on letting other people benefit from your super-powers and keeping things humming with integrity and style, you’ve got to ultimately meet your own needs first.
• Don’t give up on people. If you spend your life mis-trusting and second-guessing those around you, you’ll soon be throwing flaming arrows of your own.
• Leaps are always worth the jump. Especially if you’re leaping from a burning building, and even if there is no (visible) net.
• The pain that you’re feeling now is real, but subjective. Go watch Cinderella Man or read The Diary of Anne Frank one more time. Perspective is good.
• Struggle is necessary for the growth of your character. So rejoice in the struggle — character is priceless.
• All is well, and all will be well. (My favorite phrase on the planet.)

I can’t say I feel a ton better after writing that, but tomorrow is a new day. And I’ve still got our gold-digging excursion to look forward to, so I’m beyond excited about that. Thanks guys, for all of your shout-outs and encouragement this past week. I’m excited that you’re excited; we’re going to have a grand old time.

And now back to the steak and shrimp stir fry that John made for me…maybe “eat a good meal with people who adore you” should have been on the top of that list.