The Lie of "Almost Ready"
Forever stuck in rehearsal mode
One more draft. One more edit. One more final polish before the world finally gets to see that lifechanging thing that’s been secretly wanting to emerge from behind the scenes for so long. Hold tight for the big reveal.
What happens next is… nothing.
Another almost-masterpiece that ends up collecting dust on a digital shelf under the promising title “New Text Document (28).txt”. Filed away under “Misc", where the rest of my supposedly genius projects eventually come to die.
Call it another ADHD hyperfixation. I call it sophisticated self-sabotage dressed up as procrastination.
Self-sabotage can create its very own dopamine loop. That’s what I had to find out the hard way. But there’s no pretty face to addiction - not even for the celebrated workaholic.
On my list of all-time most desirable traits, perfectionism used to rank top. Like a silent collective agreement that promised to reward that kind of self-harm and even call it virtue.
I quit academia to pursue corporate. I quit corporate to pursue public service. I quit public service to pursue… well, whatever it is they mean by “calling” while ideally not having to feel like a fraud for being the equivalent of a Matryoshka doll in structures that thrive on pretty little empty boxes.
Qualifications lead to even more qualifications, which in turn lead to more skill acquisition that never came in handy.
They say ADHD hyperfixations fade quickly. Another hobby on the pile of what ifs.
The sneaky thing about obsession is that it never really fades - it just finds a different outlet.
My productivity chasers will say that inaction is the dead of potential. But believe me when I say that the wrong kind of action works the same way. It leads you astray by selling you the illusion that business equals progress. It doesn’t.
Manufactured business is the most elegant and socially acceptable form of remaining stuck. The kind that even gets rewarded. Celebrated. Reinforced. It’s what makes the perfect sales point for the latest productivity app or course.
You find it in the most unexpected places - even mindfulness has become a sport. Meditate, journal, do yoga - if it’s not on your calendar, it doesn’t count.
To hell with morning routines. Take it from someone who used to swear by them like a religion.
See, here’s how indoctrination works: it anchors the belief that if you don’t follow a specific set of established rules, something horrible will happen. Do this often enough, and it becomes your reality. What comes next is more of the same.
Breaking free means breaking out. First comes the mental cage. The one built on the story of being afraid to be seen. Next comes the social cage - the one that sells you the illusion of belonging in exchange for what makes you younique. Last comes the cage of false expectations - yours and theirs - the ones you’ve been conditioned not to question.
Most of our fears result from what (or who) we think we have to lose. The image. The momentum. The potential.
I'm at the point in my life where removing things (and people) makes me happier than adding them. Same goes for dropping the baggage that other people have dropped off in my head.
You’d expect that nearly four decades in pursuit of knowledge and insights would deliver a solid amount of mental assets to capitalize on. The truth however is this: they thought me mostly the importance of unlearning - of patterns, habits and beliefs.
When you find pride in being a perfectionist, “almost ready” is a life-sentence. A prison of your own making. Safe and hostile at once. It’s the illusion of working on a dream by day then undoing it by night - much like Prometheus whose liver would heal overnight, only to be eaten by Zeus’ eagle by daytime, condemned for all of eternity.
And me? I’m almost ready to accept that truth.
We fall into that trap. We want things to be perfect, so we just keep tweaking and tweaking, and before we know it, we're stuck in the same place. It’s like we're building a beautiful house, but we're so focused on making sure every single detail is just right that we never actually move in.