You're Not Good Enough

A Story by Shubham

A story written to extricate myself from said feeling.

I keep getting this extremely nagging feeling of, "You're not good enough". And this write-up is me deciding to do something about it.

Paraphrased, it innocently seems to say, "Be better. Try harder. Don't be complacent." But underneath this motivating exterior, there's a reality that can not be described. Only felt.

"You're not good enough"

It screams to he world,"He needs to be better. I'm helping him.", and then turns to you and whispers quietly, "You never will be good enough. No matter how hard you try, you won't see your actions bearing fruit. No matter how much willpower you have, you'll never be able to apply nearly as much motivation in your work as the next guy, or the one next to him, or any other person who you feel should have been your equal, in this race which just makes you want to lie flat-faced on the ground without even reaching the finish line. See those people ahead of you? You think you'd ever be able to catch up with them? Look behind! How big of an achievement do you think it is, to have left those losers to bite your dust? The hopeful faces of those cheering you on from the stands are bound to turn into something uglier than you can imagine. Disappointment.

Your supporters would be disappointed in you. You will be disappointed in you. Can you bear the weight of having to witness that moment? Will it not be easy to just give up and tell everyone that you are giving up? That way, when you fail, you'll save yourself from wallowing in disappointment. Granted, you'd achieve much lesser this way than you would've had if you'd just kept running. But isn't it worth the trade off? Trying to ace stuff, knowing you won't, and then failing. How can you choose that over not trying to do very well, knowing you're not enough, and then failing, albeit to a greater extent. In the latter case, at least there won't be a point of time where reality suddenly hits you and you lose all sense of self-worth at the hands of the results. You'll lose your sense of self-worth of your own accord. You'll say, "I'm a piece of s**t and there's nothing I can do about it, so I might as well give up this futile exercise of trying to be otherwise and choose to act my nature out."

Maybe god exists, maybe he doesn't. Either way, everything's dependent heavily on chance, and there's surely is a pretty high chance that you got the short end of the stick here. Not in terms of resources, but in terms of motivation and willpower. Enough to make everyone think that you're 'destined for greatness' and enough for them to invest their hopes and dreams in you, but not enough to achieve that greatness and make those hopes a reality."

These underlying horrors of the feeling are absent to those who haven't felt it, or have forgotten all 'bout it. It's these questions and implications that cripple you, cloud your judgement and cause everything that the feeling says, to start making sense. (Or maybe it makes your clouded judgment clearer)

I just wish I had the courage to stand up and face the "You're not good enough". Let it know that I defy everything it just said and that there is no way there's any sense in what it says. No matter the risks, I would work for the sake of working and let the fruits not come to me, if that's how things are going to occur.

But I say none of that, for I'm a coward. I listen quietly to everything it has to say, answer in the appropriate positive and negative responses to its obviously rhetorical questions, and bow my head as I contemplate the immense amount of wisdom there is in "You're not good enough"'s teachings.

I no longer wish to be that coward. This write-up is me deciding to do something about it.
This is me standing up and looking at the feeling, staring at it's huge smirking face perched on a proportionally huge physique.
Observing the glare and defiance in my eyes, the smirk fades away. The expression changes into one of terror, for it knows what's about to go down in that moment.
I continue to stare unflinchingly , and scream loud enough for it to register forever in my foe's mind. I scream "NO! You may think I'm not good enough! You may think I fear disappointment! You may think I'll give up!". The terrified eyes stare at me, searching for the coward that once stood there with a bowed head and wet eyes, but he's nowhere to be found.
Seeing my words have the desired effect, I continue,"But you are wrong. As wrong as can be. I am good enough to do whatever it is that needs to be done. I am wedded to the action, not to the fruit, so I have no truck with disappointment and regret."

The fire in my eyes undying, I stomp my foot forward, "Harken well these words! For these are the words of a prisoner escaping your bounds which are nothing more than the bounds of his own mind.
This! This is me taking back control."