Feeling failure. Pictured: a stressed girl with her face in her hands

Yesterday I felt like a complete failure

I wasn’t going to write a Confession today, as I want to give myself the weekends just for rest, but it felt important because yesterday, for no real reason at all, I felt like an utter failure and waste of space.

The bubble

I’ve been doing fairly well and I think these diary entries mostly reflect that. I’m getting sleep, I’m catching up on life admin, I’m making time for activities that I care about. But I’m somewhat removed from The Real World, here in my Arklownian bubble. I’m at home, at peace, surrounded by my wonderful patient partner and a bunch of cuddly animals.

But I have this angry pit of anxiety in my stomach, growing in fierceness as I try to picture what comes next.

Yesterday, the magazine I work for released its latest issue, one that I was not a part of. I saw someone else’s name where mine would usually go and that really hit me. I’m simultaneously so grateful to have this time away from my job to just work on myself, but also so scared of being left behind. I already feel a million miles away from where I was not even two months ago and I’m worried I won’t fit there the way I used to. Meanwhile, it’s not even halfway through my mental health break and already I’m terrified of returning to the work world and possibly not being able for it.

The bubble welcomes guests

Yesterday, also, was the first time our best friends came over to visit since Cat’s ‘doe do’ (our term for a gender neutral hen night). Somewhere along the way I think my anxieties may have conflated and I focused all my energy into cleaning and reorganising the house until I physically couldn’t anymore. I stayed up until 3AM on Thursday night doing chores and then I was back at it again Friday morning until evening.

When they finally came over, they complimented how far the house has come since the last time they were over in July but I felt like a complete and utter failure. All I could see was the housework I didn’t manage to get done. The unwashed dishes, the cluttered surfaces, the rabbit room that I had deep-cleaned earlier in the day but failed to sweep one last time right before they arrived.

They gave off nothing but warmth and love and all I could think about was my failure to be the perfect hostess, the perfect homeowner, the perfect spouse.

Alongside my family, they’re the people who love me most in the world and I know that. They’ve been by my side for over a decade now and they’ve held my hand through really hard times. If there’s anyone in the world whose judgment I shouldn’t fear, it’s this particular group of friends. But still I was so scared for them to see inside the bubble.

Just scared


I think that best describes my current state of being. I’m so full of fear and dread and worry. I try to distract myself with games on my phone or an episode of something on Netflix or a podcast to drown out my thoughts, but they keep catching up to me.

They remind me that, even if I do manage to reclaim joy and get mentally healthy again, I have no idea what comes next for me or where I fit or if I’ll fit anywhere.

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