It’s probably no big secret that I am a firm believer in personal development. That’s one way to explain it, I guess. It means that I listen to motivational speeches while I work, read everything from popular self-help books to psychology and NLP, and tried all sorts of stuff to get to be more focused, more energetic, and motivated to achieve my goals.
That being said, this list of twelve rules is something that I just have to share with you.
It feels like being afraid of heights and having to live at the top floor of a skyscraper.
It also feels like the building is on fire. Burning from the inside out, slowly consuming floor by floor until it reaches you.
It feels as if your only choices are to either jump or accept that you are going to burn. Either way, you’re pretty much out of control.
That’s how I felt for years and years; so long, actually, that it became my own emotional baseline, so I understand quite well the difference between the burning pain of suffering deeply and the general apathy and hopelessness of depression. The emptiness. The lack of interest, joy, passion. I understand the despair, the loneliness, the reluctance to discuss about it all, the very fatiguing job of hiding it all behind a smile, or an “I’m fine” delivered in the worst way possible.
“It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all – in which case, you fail by default.”
Ever felt like a failure? Odds are that you did. Maybe you still do. I know I did. I know there were days when I didn’t want to wake up, I didn’t want to confront reality, to fight for what I wanted.
I used to spend a lot of time imagining the future, I used to do everything I could to avoid doing what has always been most important to me: writing.
Because I was afraid I’d fail. I was afraid that things would never be as beautiful as they were inside my head. I was afraid of rejection, I was afraid that the day will come when I will know for sure that I’ll never be who I always dreamed of being. That I’ll never be who I’ve always wanted to be.