I have a depressive feedback loop which can be triggered by any phase in it, with exhaustion being one of the phases. And here we are, 115 years after the close of WWI, still stupidly changing the clocks every March.
You can get used to the most unusual of situations, even to the point of genuinely thinking yourself “happy” while suffering severe clinical depression.
The desire to succeed must be tempered with the realization that success is not linear.
If, as the saying goes, time is precious, why do we spend so much time wishing time away? I don’t think time is precious at all, merely irreplaceable.
Living in denial of who you are is sad. Having clarity about who you are is scary. And wondrous.