I keep a digital journal that each day shows me what I wrote on that day in the past. Recently, I saw an entry that I wrote that could have been written that day. Instead it was written three years ago.
I wrote about feeling frustrated and lost. I wrote about what I wish I were doing. I’m wanting something more but unsure what that “more” even is. I feel scared to try anything for fear of failing. I don’t feel like I’m smart enough or talented enough anymore. I question my decisions all the time.
Rewind to years before that entry, I had already tasted success. I had built something from scratch. I made money online. I felt proud of what I achieved.
If my life was a movie, it would have been the part of the movie where there’s a montage of highlights of an exciting, fun, and abundant life.
But then things changed. It didn’t change overnight. It happened gradually. Sales dropped. The fire faded. And I couldn’t find that passion for what I was doing anymore.
It was a quiet burnout that turned into slow drift into questioning everything about myself.
I tried to be positive. I tried to stay grateful. But how I felt was stronger than any positive thought I tried.
I thought I’ll find another wave to ride on. It’ll come to me soon. Don’t worry. But the longer I waited the worse things became. My inner voices became louder.
My identity had taken a huge hit. I used to be someone who was more fearless when taking an idea and trying it out. I used to not care about what people thought about the photos or random thoughts I’d share on social media. I posted because I wanted to.
Overtime I pulled back into my shell. I felt afraid to put myself out there. I felt ashamed of what I was going through. I felt like a loser. It didn’t feel right to post a photo that made my life appear to be great, when in fact it wasn’t on the inside.
There have been so many days when I felt the same way because I kept thinking the same thoughts.
I got tired of writing the same thing over and over again in my journal. But I also wanted to let out my frustrations somewhere.
But then there were days when I got tired of that. I wanted to write about different things. I want to write about new experiences—small wins, big wins, things I’m learning, and things I’m trying.
What if this whole time I’ve been keeping myself stuck by repeating the same stories about my life? I think I have kept myself stuck. Then what I see in my life reinforces those feelings and it becomes an endless loop.
This is where I’m at now. Working on figuring this all out. Doing something instead of doing nothing. Writing instead of wishing I was writing. Creating instead of only consuming.
I’m coming in more messy and more honest.
I’m sharing while everything still feels confusing and unclear.
I used to believe that good things come to those who wait. That hasn’t worked out.
So now I’m going to test out the idea that good things come to those who work.
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.