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Honest writing on narcissistic relationships, money, and rebuilding — from someone who’s lived through it, not studied it from a distance
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Overloaded - Poem
Anxiety isn’t fear of failure,
it’s the noise of unfinished things
talking all at once.
It’s the inbox that never sleeps,
the list that grows while you’re crossing items off,
the quiet guilt of resting
when something somewhere still needs doing.
Thoughts stack like unopened boxes,
each labeled urgent,
each demanding hands you don’t have
and time you already spent.
Your mind runs ahead of your body,
rehearsing outcomes,
solving problems that haven’t arrived yet,
forgetting that now is already full.
Anxiety is not weakness—
it’s overload.
A system asked to perform without pause,
without order,
without mercy.
And sometimes relief doesn’t come from doing more,
but from choosing one thing,
placing it gently in front of you,
and letting the rest wait their turn.
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