It’s building. It grows stronger and heavier creating enough energy to explode. My hands shake as I sit in fear of what’s about to happen. I keep doing this. Why can’t I stop doing this? When will I learn? When will I ever get better? What’s wrong with me? The questions surround my thoughts like a snake tightening its body around its next meal. I feel like I’m drowning in a pool of sorrow. My lungs can’t take it anymore. I’m might hit the bottom.
Anxiety can choke the living day light out of me sometimes. Within the realms of where I work, who I’m friends with or even my family, I always seem to make mistakes. I’d constantly feel like the only person doing things wrong. I’m the naive one while everyone else has it going on. As a kid, my mother used to ridicule me all the time whenever I’d be late for something. Tease me, judge me, make me feel like I’ve become my mistake. I’d beat myself up about it. Or any mistake I make.
Perfection is key in everything I do. But it’s such a difficult task to complete. I have a fear of disappointing others and of disappointing myself. I work hard to get better, but sometimes old habits never die. Or at least they take long too.
I believe I do a good job in most things that I do. And I try to put all my hard work and effort into it. I don’t step into everything with too much ease. But sometimes, it just isn’t enough.
So as I sit here, drowning in my pool of mistakes, I’m just here waiting for my perfect sense of self to come rescue me. It may seem like an eternity, but I know the more I try the better I’ll become. I just hope the ones close to me are patient enough to see me save myself from my mistakes.