The overwhelming urge to do absolutely nothing but the undeniable need to be extremely successful

It’s tough out here.

*loud scream*

To put it bluntly, I seriously can't be fucked anymore. And while that might seem like an extreme—undoubtedly vulgar—statement, I fear it’s the absolute truth.

This isn’t a cry for help or some desperate plea for attention. It’s just a reality I’ve come to recognise, a reality I’ve spent years unknowingly constructing for myself. And now, it’s consuming me.

For weeks, I’ve been sitting with my thoughts, dissecting my existence and trying to map out what comes next. But the same haunting question keeps echoing in my mind: When will I be successful? When will I have my moment?

I’ve always taken pride in my ambition. My drive. I’d like to believe that others see it in me, too. But as the world continues to unravel, as I gain more knowledge and experience, I find myself questioning the entire foundation of my ambition.

What’s the point?

Of course, I want stability - emotionally, socially, politically, financially. Who doesn’t? And while, theoretically, these things can be achieved, they never seem to materialise to the degree I once thought necessary. The older I get, the further away they seem.

Why does everything feel more impossible with time? What am I doing wrong?

No matter how much I push forward, that question remains unanswered.

I keep circling back to the same thoughts: Where do I want to live? What industry do I truly see myself growing in? What do I even want to achieve in the next five years? But with every attempt to create a plan, the only thing that becomes clearer and clearer is that anxiety never disappears ;)

But here’s the real kicker, while a part of me feels entirely burnt out, drowning in self-doubt and the slow, creeping disillusionment of adulthood, another part of me still wants it all. The big career. The financial freedom. The creative fulfillment. The recognition. The success.

I want to be impressive. I want to walk into a room and have people know exactly who I am. I want the kind of success that makes everything feel worth it.

And yet—I want to do absolutely nothing.

I want to lie in bed for hours, phone in one hand, snack in the other, avoiding emails like they personally wronged me. I want to pause my entire existence for a little while, just enough to regain some sense of control. To stop feeling like I’m running on a treadmill that keeps speeding up, never quite reaching a destination.

It’s the most frustrating contradiction: an overwhelming urge to check out of life entirely, paired with an undeniable, desperate need to be somebody. To be great.

Maybe this is just a phase. A quarter-life crisis wrapped in existential dread. Or maybe it’s the moment I finally admit to myself that ambition alone won’t save me. Because if chasing "success" has only led me to exhaustion, then maybe it's time to redefine what success even means.

Maybe it’s not about a singular moment. Maybe it's about learning to exist in the in-between. Maybe the real challenge is figuring out how to balance drive with rest, how to push forward without self-destruction.

Because right now, I don’t want to hustle harder. I just want to exist without feeling like I’m already falling behind.

xoxo