“…despite having done well at your job, you feel like you’re a fraud and it’s only a matter of time before everyone finds out that you’re just an ‘impostor’ and the house of cards collapses.”
I felt like an impostor — like they’d chosen the wrong person to teach. Surely I wasn’t smart enough or qualified enough for this. I should be sitting at a desk, not standing behind the podium.
Panic drives us to do some strange things. It drives us to find a way to escape — to flee from — the uncomfortable physical and mental sensations.
There’s dreadful sense of verbal oppression that comes along with the word “should”, and replacing that word with “want” can help to lift the burdensome pressure.
That pesky Facebook news feed serves as a daily reminder of what we haven’t yet accomplished.
That pint-sized brain of mine, tucked inside my skinny little body that wore a hefty neon pink and yellow backpack, heard only one thing: you could have done better.
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We can’t continue doing things that we don’t like or things we’re not meant to do simply because popular phraseology commands that we strive onward.
At 5:30 this morning, I found myself curled up with a bathrobe and a rug.
Becoming a writing athlete. Boy, I like that. I sure as heck can’t get myself to the gym — yeah, that whole agoraphobia thing, um — but I can easily open up my laptop & say something fruitful each day. Right? Right!?!