Letter #50

Content Warning: perfectionism, anxiety, depression


I had always been a perfectionist. I pushed myself to excel in every aspect of my life. I couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing anyone, especially myself. Day by day, this relentless pursuit of perfection took a toll on me. I awoke in the middle of the night, troubled by self-doubt and dread. My inner critic was unrelenting, telling me I wasn’t good enough, that I was a failure. The dark clouds of depression collected, and I felt myself sinking deeper into their shade. School always felt like a slap in the face. I’m good at school, but, when it comes to tests, I lose it. The amount of nervousness and anxiety I get from a few pages of paper that seem to determine everything hurts me inside. Every night, I study for hours and hours until I reach a breaking point, but I must study until I understand what I say to myself every time.

Disappointment always scares me, especially from my parents. Anxiety and depression began hitting me like a wave at a young age. I never understood those feelings until I became older and more self-aware. I always hid those feelings away from everyone, burdening myself even more. I did not know what to do, I did not know who to talk to or what to think. I felt useless.

But, at some point in my life, I did get better. I still get depressed and anxious from time to time, and school is as stressful as ever, but I learned to cope and talk to someone when I need it. I found things like journaling, listening to music, and walking helpful to ease the stress. To this day, I strive and keep going and remember that I’m loved, and I’m better than before.

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