Mornings don’t always bring peace. For some, like me, they’re a rude reminder of a restless mind that hasn’t quite clocked out yet. The sunlight might filter in, but instead of comfort, it exposes every crack and flaw I’ve tried to ignore. Thoughts I pushed away the night before are waiting, louder and heavier, like unwelcome guests I can't evict.
In those quiet hours, my mind can turn into a trap. One thought leads to another, and before I know it, I'm tangled in a mess of doubts I can’t untangle. Am I good enough? Did I mess that up? What if this is all there is? The questions don’t stop. They just pile up, each one sharper and more suffocating than the last.
I overthink every decision, replay every awkward moment, and analyze every failure as if I'm trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces. It’s exhausting. And isolating. Because while the world outside is waking up and moving on, I'm stuck here, dissecting myself under a microscope I built from my own insecurities.
It’s easy to feel like I'm chasing something that doesn’t exist—perfection, validation, whatever it is. The harder I chase, the farther it seems. I end up in this loop of self-doubt that feels impossible to break. But somewhere in the middle of all that noise, there’s a small, stubborn part of me that doesn’t want to give up.
Maybe it’s not about being “good enough.” Maybe it’s about letting go of the idea that I need to be perfect to deserve peace. Maybe it’s about accepting that I’m messy and flawed, and that’s okay. That’s human.
I won’t wake up one day and magically have it all figured out. It’s not that simple. But there’s something to be said for just making it through—one thought at a time, one day at a time. Eventually, maybe I'll realize the morning isn’t my enemy. It’s just another chance to start over, even if starting over feels like the hardest thing in the world.
That's all for the moment...
🌄🫰🫖 JRT
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