Dear Anxiety,

I’ve been the embodiment of sloth. No excuses.

I can blame my health. I can blame my energy. But there is no truly guilty party besides myself.

My choices have led me to this moment. I’ve ignored my Ni. I’ve ignored my Te. I refused to keep up with habits. I’ve indulged in entertainment and fun but I need to face the truth.

People tell me I’m hard on myself. Since I was a young, I’ve only expected the best from myself and I always felt like I hit below the mark. I have no one else to blame but myself. I have all the resources, usually enough time, but I spend my days in mindless thought. Why is it so difficult for me to find balance? It’s either I’m completely submerged in this high-paced driven mindset, where I can barely breathe. Or I’m at a complete standstill, judging myself for my inaction because it shows how I settle for mediocrity.

My time for family, for health, for sanity seems completely unjustifiable in my eyes. Why can’t I have nice things without feeling guilty for having them?

My brain tells me, you should be happy for what you have. For this time alone, for this space, this comfort, you’ve worked more than 6 years for this. And I tell myself, I must work some more. I reply back, but you’ve made it! You got the degree you wanted. And still, I am not satisfied.

It’s never enough. I am not enough for myself and I don’t know if I ever will be.

 

 

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