Just Thoughts

Anxiety keeps me from reaching out and grabbing the things I want because I fear the unknown space I’ll have to travel to get there. I believe that I will inevitably fail. This feeds the depression because sometimes the thing is so close that I can taste it. It’s rather sad to see that which you want but have told yourself you aren’t worthy of. But there is a comfort, even in the discomfort of remaining the same. Who needs to stretch? Who needs to grow? That shit hurts.
Growth hurts. Sometimes too much. 


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