At 6:00 a.m., my alarm shatters the tranquility of sleep. The temptation to hit snooze is overwhelming, with my body craving just a few more minutes of blissful sleep. But as I lie there, enveloped in the warmth of my blanket, a nagging voice in the back of my mind grows louder:Â
“If you don’t wake up right now, you will lose the precious morning hours, and your entire day will be a chaotic mess.”
Reluctantly, I drag myself out of bed, splashing water on my face before heading to the gym. As I step onto the treadmill, I already feel the fatigue creeping in. I wish to reduce the speed, but the voice in my mind continues:
“If you decide not to run, this workout won’t be effective. Take a look at the girl next to you—her consistency and stamina in the gym should inspire you to push through.”
I keep running for 15 minutes before transitioning to some resistance training. Once I’m done at the gym, I head back to my room, where the rush of the morning continues. Every thought and task feels hurried as I struggle to keep up with my schedule. While part of me longs to slow down, the reminder persists:
“If you don’t complete your tasks on time, your meticulously planned schedule will fall apart. You’ve mapped every hour of your day, and it’s crucial to manage your time effectively.” Â
After getting dressed, I make my way to the mess for breakfast. The gnawing hunger hits me hard since I skipped dinner the previous night. Although I sometimes yearn to eat, my eating window closes at 6:00 p.m. I’ve faithfully adhered to the practice of intermittent fasting for years. Despite the temptation to abandon it and enjoy all my meals, I hesitate. The persistent reminder echoes in my mind:Â
“If you eat after 6:00 p.m., it will negatively impact your health.”
Glancing at the breakfast options, I decide to toast some brown bread and grab some eggs and fruit. However, a familiar craving tugs at me—I want to indulge in some fruit loops, drawn in by their sweet taste. But then, my inner voice interjects, reminding me sternly:Â
“You’re on a strict no-sugar diet, remember? Anything processed would be like feeding poison to yourself.“
After hastily finishing breakfast, I rush to my classes. As my professor poses questions during the lecture, a familiar anxiety grips me. Though I long to participate, my profound fear holds me back:
“If you say something stupid, you’ll only make a fool out of yourself. Everyone will think you’re dumb and judge you.”
During lunch, I find myself seated among a group of people, but my mind is elsewhere. Despite feeling drawn to their conversation topics and harboring opinions I wish to contribute, the familiar hesitation holds me back. I yearn for the confidence to speak freely without the burden of overthinking. Yet, a voice of caution whispers in my mind:
“If you don’t stay cautious, you might come across as foolish. You could say something inappropriate or, even worse, something that these people might disagree with.” Â
After enduring a few more hours of classes, I finally retreat to my room, feeling utterly drained. Seeking solace, I reach for my phone to distract myself. Fifteen minutes turn into an endless scroll through Instagram, each swipe offering temporary relief from the day’s stresses. But as the daily reminder prompts me to close the app, a pang of reluctance sets in. I’m tempted to indulge in more reels, to lose myself in the endless stream of content. Yet, a voice of reason interrupts my moments of distraction:Â
“If you keep mindlessly scrolling, you’ll waste precious time that could be better spent. Social media won’t pave the path to success; it will only impede your progress.”
I exit Instagram and dial my mother’s number. While conversing with her, I begin to feel restless in my legs. I realize that I haven’t walked much. Glancing at my watch, I notice I still have 3000 steps left to complete. Despite the urge to sit down, a thought crosses my mind:
“If you don’t walk now, you won’t meet your daily step goal of 10,000. It’s essential to multitask and prioritize effectively.” Â
After completing all my tasks for the day, I finally sink into my bed, yearning for sleep and relaxation. The weight of relentless productivity bears down on me, and I ache to simply breathe and unwind. Yet, every idle moment is overshadowed by a suffocating sense of guilt—a constant companion in my pursuit of perfection. While guilt serves as a twisted form of motivation, its presence is also a relentless tormentor, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. Each swallow feels like ingesting a sharp iron nail, tearing at the delicate lining of my throat and leaving behind a trail of fresh wounds. I long for the day when I can rest without the burden of guilt weighing me down, when I can simply allow myself to be imperfect. But for now, every passing second that falls short of perfection serves as a painful reminder of my own shortcomings.Â