Chronic illness

Am I Too Hard On Myself?

Sometimes I feel like I am my own worst enemy. I can be so hard on myself – on my abilities, on my physical appearance, on my career (or lackthereof), on my relationship status. I am a member of a very high-achieving family with an incredible work ethic. It is not easy when I’m always comparing myself to my amazing family members. They kick butt. They’ve worked hard for their success and it is so deserved. 

I think I’m hardest on myself when I’m exhausted for no reason and feel horrible because I’m not able to be as productive as I want to be (or feel is expected of me). I don’t need other people to be hard on me. That just compounds everything. I am hard enough on myself. Sometimes I’m just sick of myself – sick of a body that doesn’t cooperate, sick of a mind that never seems to quiet itself, sick of how I sabotage myself without knowing why. As positive as I try to stay, I have crappy days too. Everyone does. But I’m going to try to be kinder to myself, because at the end of the day…picking on myself doesn’t accomplish anything!

Hanging In There,

Lindsay B.

4 thoughts on “Am I Too Hard On Myself?

  1. It took me awhile to accept this whole being kinder to one self as I too have also been an overachiever, hard, hard worker, and leader. I’ve had to definitely rethink all of this since Lyme and it has taken a couple of years to finally accept and realize that not being all of those things all of the time is in fact OK. Be good to you!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It really has been a challenge for me. I fought it like I said for a couple of years and then acceptance won. I’m still hard on myself but way not as much. I gave up some responsibilities at work. Oh, that was really difficult to do without feeling like a failure. I hope you are able to find peace with this. I promise, it feels a whole lot better 😘

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Ha! Yeap. Oh, boy. Hard on myself… I got myself this thing I have for being overly hard on myself. And ever since, I’m being even harder on myself. And when I’m not, an alternate consciousness in the shape, form and voice of my mother crops up accusing me of making up excuses for being lazy and wasting time.


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