i somehow always find myself back at ground zero after a while. everything is just tiring now and tasks that came naturally to me now require an incredulous amount of motivation. after what has been an avalanche of posts describing how wholesome i feel after half a year back in manchester, this can only make sense if This is who i am at the fundamental foundation of what makes me a person; This being constantly scared and believing the absolute worst of any situation. i’m back at that point in life where i start questioning the validity of everything i do, whether it’s right or wrong, necessary or pointless, enough or wholly inadequate. i don’t know. i’m struggling quite a bit. and the thing is i can’t see the physical manifestation of what it is i am struggling at exactly. after years of using logic and facts to fight against immaterial overthinking, logic itself just seems like a ruse now. rationally, my fear can’t be real, but after so long of not seeing results, of not actually progressing beyond what i’ve romanticised so far, it starts getting to your head: maybe my fear is real after all.