This frustration has not left me. I hate that I expected things to be any different than they are right now. They’re not. I’m still the same person. I still delay doing the things I say I want done. I still get tired and choose resting over work. Now I’m here and I’m uneasy. I can’t sit still. When I do the thought of everything that I’m not doing rushes to my head. Instead of doing those things, I pick something else. Something that can help me shut off my brain. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to question things and I don’t want to project a future. I just want my mind to shut off and give me some peace. I don’t get it though, and I won’t. My mind won’t know peace until I do as it says. It’s made it clear that it is on its own side, I’m either with it or in its way. It doesn’t care about me.
It’s exhausting to be haunted by your own mind. To know what needs to be done, to hear it clearly, and still choose silence over action. And the worst part is—I know better. I’ve lived through the rewards of discipline before. I’ve seen what happens when I push through. But here I am again, wrestling with delay, stalling when I should be storming forward. I’m not confused—I’m just resisting. And the resistance makes me hate myself a little.
The frustration isn’t just with what’s undone. It’s with the fact that I know exactly why it’s undone. My mind isn’t my enemy, not really—it’s just relentless. It doesn’t care about my feelings. It only wants growth. It only respects action. And if I’m not keeping pace with it, it turns on me. That’s what this unease is. It’s my own potential clawing at the inside of my skull, begging to be released.
There’s no peace for me unless I earn it. And that’s the truth I keep trying to run from. No distraction will cover it. No moment of rest will satisfy it. My mind has drawn a line. It’s either my ally or my tormentor, depending on the choices I make. So I have to choose. I have to stop looking for mercy and start becoming the one who no longer needs it.
