What now?

Confidence is a fickle thing. One moment, you're flying on an invincible wave and in a flash, you're cracking your skull against a hidden shallow rock. 

They say when you pass and start practising. Your confidence comes and goes in steps.

Initially, you're keen and green. You feel like you could answer the meaning of life. This peaks in a crescendo and crashes down like a bucket of water dropped over your sleeping head. From there you realize your mortality. This time, slowly, your confidence develops as you gain more experience. You become comfortable. Complacent even. And like before, in a moment, you trip and fall face to the floor. 

Today, that little edge of the rug was my downfall. You stand there running through every conceivable outcome and pathway. Brain spinning, heart racing and you know the answers to your questions but the indecision is like a heavy weight. How do you face the feeling or dread as you realize your options are crap. It felt odd, reassuring a man struggling for breath, fighting to stay the fluid trying not to drown in his own lungs. When you've been dealt a hand insufficient. I'm not sure what's worst. That I knew what was wrong but couldn't fix it or that I was gonna stand there observing a human suffer in anxious breathlessness and sit on my hands. I've had far nastier cases yet I feel shaken by the feeling of indecision. 

In the end, there's a lingering bad taste in my mouth. One that I can't wash away with alcohol. One that makes me crave the reassurance of company. Maybe it's a combination of a relentless day, from spit and dribble to indecisive dread. 

Meh.