Why It’s Tiring Being Me

• When I find a fun new blog, I can’t stop thinking about why I can’t write like that.

• When I cook a batch of something fantastic on a weekend, I berate myself for not cooking for every meal, every day.

• When someone takes a flattering picture of me, I feel like I’m tricking everyone because I don’t look that way in real life.

• When I go to therapy (as everyone should) and can’t think of much, I frantically dig through my brain for all of the neuroses I should be solving.

You get the idea. Whatever I’m doing, I should be doing something else. Whoever I’m with, I should be with more – or I should be with someone else – or both at once. Whatever I’ve accomplished, it should have been better or faster.

I know it’s lunacy. I know it’s a hellish treadmill of my own invention. And I know, as Matt Hall says, that I shouldn’t “should” on myself.

It doesn’t make me fun to be around, sometimes. It makes compliments hard to take. It makes sitting still something I have to practice.

Heaven, to me, will be being enough.