Pressure

It seems to be my initial instinct to put pressure on myself, I always feel overwhelmed by this until the point where I give up due to fear of failure, but why do I do this? I am never good enough, nothing I ever do is perfect, and nothing I ever do will be perfect. Any other person would understand this but I don’t.

My mother always wanted me to be perfect, this thinking has been pushed upon me for as long as I can remember. I know it is the wrong way to feel about myself, I know this way of thinking isn’t good, but I still do it. When will I ever stop putting too much pressure on myself? I could lie and say I strive for excellence but I don’t from anyone else.

I am rather tired of this role I have been playing, I always needed to look perfect when around other people but that had gone out of the window a long time ago. Now, why can’t I stop thinking everything else needs to be perfect? My writing has to be perfect, I have to do all the right things in my mind and nothing I will ever do can be good enough.

When I lived with my Mother I knew she was wrong, I would always say to her that life isn’t the Brady Bunch to try and make her understand her way of thinking was flawed. But that thinking has passed onto me, I need pressure on my back because that is all I have known, and then I begin to spiral.

I have been spiralling for a long time, I would say before my third miscarriage that I was in a giant year-long spiral but I actually was beginning to feel a little better, now the pressure is on for me to get back to that place. I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole again, I haven’t fallen as far but I am still nowhere near close to the light.

I move forward, some days take me back, but what else can I do?

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