It's 3am right now. I slept for 4-5 hours and actually tried going back to sleep, but I was so awake I couldn't. In fact, my body didn't even want caffeine. This was the best I've slept in weeks, maybe months.
I have a complicated relationship with the concept of "vacation." I never went on many as a kid, and I adopted an overly hard-working lifestyle (read: workaholism) from my parents. Before I even started going to school, my days were filled with puzzles and games. I became addicted to this constant mental stimulation.
There comes a time in every 20-something year old's life where a defining moment slaps them in the face with reality. This realization is different for everyone. For me, it was accepting that I'm actually NOT good at everything. Attempting stand up comedy, albeit in a safe and supportive setting, woke me the fuck up.
I love my parents. They're good, hard-working, and caring. To this day, I've never seen them fight with each other, and they've never hit me or my brothers for disciplinary purposes. Sound impossible? Maybe a little too perfect? It comes close, but I've learned to stop believing in perfection.
I'll be the first to confess that unknown situations give me anxiety, but using logic over emotions helps to push me out of my comfort zone... in a healthy way. The best way to describe how I tackle new challenges is illustrated by Peter Sim's book Little Bets: How Breakthrough Ideas Emerge from Small Discoveries.
At 8:45am last Thursday, I stopped halfway up the steps to the San Francisco Hall of Justice and peered out from under my umbrella at the building looming over me. I was overcome with anxiety and nausea. After a week of nightmares and insomnia, I should have been relieved this day had finally come, but one question kept haunting me: What was I trying to achieve by coming here?
The idea of putting an "unfinished product" out there on the internet was the most anxiety-inducing thought that crossed my mind in awhile. Then again, what was the worst that could happen? What was I so afraid of? Hateful comments? Internet trolls? My parents discovering my YouTube channel? Probably all the above.
To this day, about 10 years later, I still regret not learning how to play the snare drum. Technically I could learn now, but I don't have the interest at this point in my life, and that's not the point anyways. This is just a short demonstration of the way I lived my life until I was about 25. I kept caving into what I call "perfection paralysis."