Sometimes, there are things you cannot do. Like, you physically cannot bring yourself to do it. Your mind and body and being simply refuse to even consider it. Because they cannot deal with the anxiety it causes. It’s like an invisible, insurmountable force around that thing. And you know that it makes no sense. That there is no reason why there should be that force around it. No reason why doing it should be in any way difficult. But it is. And there’s nothing you can do about it. You just have to keep probing until the force goes away. Or at least, until it’s not quite as strong. Until you can overcome it. And it feels so completely out of your control. Maybe it isn’t, I don’t know. But it feels like it is.
The most frustrating thing is the knowing. Because there is that part of you that is rational, that is cool and collected and recognizes that there is nothing there preventing you from doing that thing. That the force is just in your mind. It’s fictitious. But it doesn’t matter. Because that part of you is not in control. All it can do is rage in frustration. Shake fists and grind teeth. Or so it feels. Sometimes, it can win. Sometimes, it successfully usurps the other part, the irrational one. But then you feel so tired. Bone tired. It takes so much.
A Book Nerd 