I used to think failure was about numbers like losing money, shutting down a company, or missing targets. But real failure? It’s when you lose yourself.
After my own setback, I noticed something strange. It wasn’t just that I didn’t have work. It was that I couldn’t feel like working anymore. The spark that once lit me up like brainstorming at midnight, building teams, scaling products — it didn’t even create a flicker inside me.
I kept asking myself: Why can’t I just pick up something small and start? Why can’t I push through?
The truth hit me like a late-night punch: I had evolved. What excited me before simply didn’t feel meaningful anymore.
When you’ve built something big, your mind builds an invisible yardstick. You unconsciously measure every new idea against your past success. You remember the energy of a big team, the rush of growth charts, the adrenaline of new hires and expansions.
Now, when you try to start something small — a side gig, a consulting call, a tiny digital product — it feels like throwing pebbles after you’ve once launched rockets. You feel silly, almost embarrassed to call it “work.”
But it doesn’t stop there. Your entire identity gets woven into your career. Your “I am” statement was always followed by what you built or led. When that structure crumbles, it cracks you right at the core. You’re not just jobless; you feel nameless.
The worst part? You can’t even explain it to anyone. Friends and family might say, “Do something small! Just start anywhere!” They mean well. But they don’t realize you’re battling an invisible ghost inside — a ghost that constantly whispers, “You’re not enough anymore.”
I lived this. Every single hour felt heavy, every day felt like pushing through fog. I knew I should act, but the energy just wasn’t there.
I’m still figuring it out. I don’t have a grand conclusion yet. Maybe one day I will.
Sometimes the hardest comeback isn’t in the world outside — it’s in the quiet corner of your mind where your old self still lives.
AnandNataraj 