December 15

for the moments when nothing seems to make sense anymore

By Catherine Hu

day 1

i am terrified of failure.

day 39

i don’t know what i’m doing wrong, but it feels like everything.

day 57

i can’t stop picking apart my own flaws.

day 66

i constantly try to find personal fulfillment by meeting other people’s expectations of who i should be.

day 108

what if they don’t like me?

day 124

all i want to do is to stop comparing myself to others.

i finally stopped counting. it’s been liberating.

i’ve decided to stop counting the days that have passed.

when i looked back, i realized that i haven’t felt like myself for over a hundred days. i started this journal on a whim, on a day that just hadn’t gone right at all. and then i kept documenting all my fears, doubts, worries.

for these few months, the days have been blending together, as if tomorrow had just become an extension of today, and today had just become an extension of yesterday. it started to feel like counting days was the only way i could pass the time.

reset yourself and start a new day—it’ll get better.

i’ve completely lost track of the numbers. it was a saturday, though, so i slept in.

it’s been strange to not count the days like i did before. but i think i’m getting used to it. i’m working on focusing on the little things and appreciating them.

enjoy the good moments instead of fixating on the difficult ones.

i’m taking life one moment at a time. it’s 7:54 am right now.

this morning i got up at 5 a.m. too tired to fall back asleep, i sat by my window and watched the sun rise instead.

it started out as a little speck on the horizon that turned into a delicate glow. then, like a beacon, it pierced through the fog and the haze and the mist. rays scattered across the ground and made the dew on the grass shimmer like a million little stars. it was so quiet and peaceful.

for once, my mind wasn’t fighting to let go of the insecurities that lurked there. it was calm. peaceful. i cracked open the window and breathed in the cool autumn air.

when i exhaled, it was like i was breathing for the first time in over a hundred days. like i’d been holding my breath for so long. like i’d finally learned to release everything that’d been pent up inside of me for so long.

take things one step at a time. they’ll get better. they always do.