Procrastination Destination

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I’m incredibly good at getting things done on time while also maintaining a decent GPA but also messing around until the very last possible second, but as much as I pride myself in my ability to get things done at the very last second before its due, I just want everyone to know my life may not be as glamorous as it seems, despite my charming description.

I’ve struggled with procrastination for as long as I remember, I remember being in elementary school and we’d get these weekly homework packets that my teacher would assign on Monday and collect on Friday and every week without fail, instead of spreading out my homework throughout the week and spending, perhaps 15 minutes a day writing out my spelling words, I’d wait until Thursday afternoon and do the entire packet in one sitting. Habits start early, and this is a habit I have yet to grow out of, I have my doubts that I’ll ever grow out of this habit, but I mean… I guess it’s my fatal flaw. Why not.

I want to talk about… all the stress and anxiety I’ve created within myself because of my flaw. How procrastination has really molded me into the person I am today. I feel like… because of my procrastination, I’ve always had the feeling that my life wasn’t together. I spend my time asking for assignments and times and deadlines instead of actually putting my head to it and getting it done. I look through endless years of social media, avoiding my work looking myself in the eye instead of immersing myself into my projects. And what for?

Because I never have anything done, my life is never together, I think this has really caused my longterm stress and anxiety issues. Despite my outer appearance, I am always stressed out. I am always worried about something. I guess I’ve gotten really good at hiding it over the years. There is no relief when I finally turn in an assignment that is due at 11:59 PM, at 11:58. There is only more stress that I will have to do the same thing tomorrow.

There is no such thing as a finished project. There is always the fear that tomorrow is another one. And yet another one around the corner always.

And maybe I ask… why am I like this? Why do I do this to myself. Why can’t I just… get home… sit down and do what I have to.

I’m tired.

Is there something wrong with me for doing these things?

How am I going to keep doing this for the rest of my life if I’m tired of it now. I’m so tired.

I want to do better I really do, but old habits die hard.

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