So much of my inner-dialogue is "no" or "undoable", or a need to shit from anxiety. I recognize it outside of myself. It doesn't belong to me. I recently realized I willingly put balls in my court (don't take it that way). I willingly keep something in my way to surmount, crawl around, or piece away. This requires more effort than simply tossing it out, as healthy people do when a ball dribbles in. But I keep it. I don't even like the ball. When I see the ball in my path, I think about it. I think about tossing it out, and how, instead of actually tossing it out. Somewhere along the way I believed suspicions about myself that may have been validated unintentionally, probably on a harmless and very minute level. I used to be vulnerable to this. What is different today is that I recognize it. Logically, I know what is false. Yet I still have to fight through the shit. It's exhausting. Surrounding me are people who believe in me, who see the truth about me. I am the only one holding myself back. It is so frustrating. I know what I am, and yet I don't know. All I can do is fight and piece away what is left of the detriment.
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