A losing game

My deeply held illusions and sense of entitlement to a perfect life has done more to hurt and damage me than anything anyone has or could have ever done. I’ve spent so long resenting the fact that life isn’t how I envisioned it and resisting the truth of my life, that I’m starting to see that I never gave two shits about myself, ever. I didn’t care at what cost I fulfilled those goals or ideals. I didn’t care about how it made me feel or how it fit into my purpose in life. Heck, my purpose in life, as far as I could see, was to outdo anyone in anything I’m doing. I don’t care at what cost, my name better be at the top of the list.

And the rug was pulled from underneath me so fast that I didn’t have time to think existential crisis before I found myself in that void where my true self was abandoned and relegated to. I saw how everything I had thought was the 💣 dot com was a thin veneer of nothing. All it took was one thing to be misplaced for everything to tumble down. What I saw as success was really a game of jenga. It was exhilarating in the moment but no way was it sustainable. In fact, it required more of me than it would give me.

But, I’d rather suffer my mistakes here than, you know…

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