Becoming Myself

I’m an over-analyst.

For my whole life, every step forward has been sewn with neurotic paranoia around whether this is the wrong step, whether picking a door excludes me from the right doors, the better doors.

Inaction was usually my way of dealing with this.

I would work on my job, my homework, my music. Whatever gave the appearance of forward movement, since I never actually wanted to seem like I was stalled out. As long as I could show that I was doing something, it didn’t really matter if I was being fulfilled or not.

In the back of my mind, I kept telling myself that it was just a matter of time before I could start actually feeling fulfilled. Just wait ’til I’m out of school. Just wait ’til I can get a better job. Just wait.

It was really just a way to tell the creative part of myself to calm down. It was thirsty and was begging for nourishment, but I just had it wait.

I feel like I’m starting to get beyond that.

I’m spending less time waiting for conditions to be perfect and more time figuring out what I can do to accomplish my goals. Let’s brew Beer! Let’s make tomato sauce for the winter! Let’s make our own lives!

I’m realizing that enriching my life is my own responsibility.

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