Words I said, things I would do,
I analyzed my behaviors thru and thru;
I knew no such thing as mindless conversation,
nearly everything I said led to endless rumination;
most actions I took I feared I made a big mistake -
Did I do too much? Too little? Just enough? Right in the middle?
It truly was paralysis spawning from my over analysis -
dissecting all that I partook in,
questioning any great results,
to ensure I was not mistaken;
How could I put my mind to rest?
When would I realize not everything was a test?
Even if it were, the judgment need to be so tough,
When would I accept that I - as me - was enough?
Everything I did, I said, created, completed, produced, or tried to write,
didn't change me at my core: intelligent, kind, passionate, empathetic, funny, and polite;
Even when my actions didn't always align;
It didn't mean that individual event had the power to define
my identity - even though sometimes imperfections or mistakes,
often ate away at me, especially when I had a full plate;
I longed for the day I'd be able to remember that an experience didn't define me,
and hoped that maybe I'd be able to brush it off and look at my imperfections kindly;
Stop tormenting myself for all missteps that I would make -
leading me to run, avoid, self-alienate, or need a break;
I didn't want to be running or constantly live feeling fear;
and I'm beyond grateful that with much hard work,
crippling anxiety no longer is my baseline, rather it appears.