The price of inaction is far greater than the cost of making a mistake.
I think as a young adult, I felt like I had so much time to figure things out. A late bloomer in every aspect of life, it seems I skipped a couple of turns in this game we’re all playing, and I’ve been playing catch-up ever since.
Even now at 30, I’m realizing what time truly means. Maybe it involves figuring out how to live freely and unbound, and making decisions for myself? Or maybe it means making money until I’m shitting myself in an adult diaper? Idk…
What started this query? Thinking back, it wasn’t until I was 25 that I was diagnosed with mild depression and an anxiety disorder. It made me think about what that had done to me – waiting so long for a diagnosis. I was lost to my own inaction for so long. I was a half-hearted participant in my own day-to-day life.
Anxiety and fear have always glued my feet to the same spot, but I finally had words to connect that feeling which had always plagued me. Inadequacy. I’m not really sure where that even started? My parents never made me think I was stupid or unworthy…yet I’ve always been afraid to commit to a proper direction or decision.
I was a half-hearted participant in my own day-to-day life.
Lack of confidence and support, I suppose manifests into self-consciousness. Growing up an obese child for the entirety of my life likely ruined my childhood upbringing to form such a high opinion of myself. Bullying from adults, teenagers, and children during your formative years isn’t a great affect on the mind.