When I was in my mid-twenties I thought I was pretty together. Outwardly it showed this way too. I worked full time as a lending officer at a large bank. I lived in a nice apartment in Los Angeles, and I had lots of friends. But inside I was anxious. I worried a lot, felt overwhelmed a lot of the time. It seemed I was always running behind. Whether it was taking too long to return a phone call, running late for work, or not doing something I had promised, it would weigh on me. I remember driving to work, racing down the freeway, and feeling rushed and hurried. The conversation in my head would go something like this “Damn, why didn’t I wake up earlier? Why was I always waiting until the last possible second to leave the house? Why aren’t these cars moving faster?” About the moment I would realize I was going to be late, the stories would start to swirl in my head. The stories I would tell when I arrived at work about why I was late. More anxiety – now I have to make up an excuse for why I was late. Over time I could see that people didn’t appreciate, nor even listen to my stories of why I was late, the simple truth was that I was not keeping my word about showing up on time. All the stories in the world wouldn’t change that. (more…)
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