I’m pretty sure each one of us is insecure and anxious every now and then, some are luckier than others, hiding and forgetting them like they never existed. But others are left with their demons following them around like shadows, only instead of being gone in the night, they become bigger and more dangerous.
Self Help books and motivational speakers feed you with bogus that it will be better, that it’s easy to surpass your monsters. They don’t know. Not even a slightest idea.
The best thing you can say to them? You can’t afford to be another person, because they’re already taken. You’re stuck with yourself, might as well live with it.
This happens when Sylvia Plath happens.