The Art of Accomplishing Nothing

I visited my therapist this past Friday, like I do every week. We were discussing accomplishments and how I am notorious for downplaying even the big and exciting things that happen to me.

“I guess something cool happened to me. It’s not huge, but…”

“You’re doing it again.”

Dammit. She’s a great therapist and she’s even better when she calls me out on my bullshit.

Her point did get me thinking– Why do I downplay myself? Why do I find it so difficult to celebrate the small stuff? I have this irrational way of thinking everything I do or say needs to be momentous; and if it’s not, I probably shouldn’t go about it. I practice this with articles, in conversations, with schoolwork. It’s an exhausting way to go about life.

“Not every accomplishment needs to be big. Sometimes just getting out of bed in the morning is an accomplishment.”

She’s absolutely right. Sometime’s it’s really fucking hard to get out of bed, or take a shower, or finding time to eat a decent meal. These tasks seem menial, but some days they’re the hardest ones to start or finish.

I had a bad day yesterday, but I still finished my day. I still ate. I still smiled. I still took a shower, found time to eat, checked in with my friends. There was a lot I could have done and didn’t do– but that’s okay. Life goes on and it won’t stop for you or I.

Today started off equally as terrible, but I still got up. I went to class. I did what I needed to do. It’s so easy to get caught up in the mundane style of our day-to-day, so I try to break things up. I order a different coffee in the morning. I take a different route to class. I listen to a new song. It seems silly, and maybe it is, but things like these do count as accomplishments some days. There’s something to be said for the effort put forth. There’s something to be said for trying.

I’m not going to pretend like this revelation will change my way of thinking all-day, every-day. It won’t. I’m still going to feel very, very unaccomplished some days. I’m still going to have doubt and worry. I’m still going to feel like I’m not doing enough.

But the good news?

I’m ok today.

That’s all I can ask for.

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Anxiety + Coming Out of the Comfort Zone

 

Simple situations garner the most anxiety.

Ordering food, walking into an unfamiliar situation, speaking to someone new– all of these brainless tasks can immediately send me into panic mode. I’ve missed out on so many positive experiences and beautiful people because of fear.

Recently my roommate asked me if I wanted to go to the gym with her. I’m fairly sure I laughed in her face.  I laughed in her face.

Gym? Don’t know him.

Despite telling her no, she basically forced me into going with her.

I’ve wasted money on memberships I’ve never used because fear would not allow me to better myself. Fear controlled me 99.9% of the time.

But I went. Once, then twice, then three times. For someone that never leaves her apartment, this was truly a step in the right direction. (I’m not sorry about this terrible pun.)

Living with anxiety is a lot like taking 3 steps forward and 2 steps back. I’m not lazy (despite contrary belief) and I’m not unmotivated. I just don’t always know how to turn the negative into a positive. I don’t always feel like I am worthy of change or happiness. The “what-if’s” consume a good portion of my thought process, and it’s something I’ve always dealt with. What if they judge me? What if I make an ass out of myself? What if I can’t do it? Most days I don’t think twice about it– I am anxiety and anxiety is me.

I do know that I’m tired of letting irrational fears control who I am and the things that I do. Anxiety has made me older than I am. With her, I am burnt out and worn.

It doesn’t have to be that way.

So, I will say this– I’m no fitness guru, I didn’t lose any weight, and I’m not remotely close to my ideal shape.

The good thing? I have time. This isn’t a race, nor a competition. This is a journey towards self-expression, health, and productivity– powered by me.

If not now, then when?

As always, we need you.

–Leah

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