Why Can’t I Just Do It?

There’s a part of this that no one really talks about. Not properly.
The part that sits under the surface, creeping in when everything else looks fine on the outside.

I’m not talking about the big life stuff.
I mean the everyday things. The stuff that should be simple. That everyone else just seems to get on with.

Replying to a message.
Making a phone call.
Folding the washing.
Washing the pots.
Booking an appointment.
Opening an email.
Posting a letter that’s been sat on the passenger seat for two weeks.

It builds up. It clutters your mind. It clutters your space.
And the longer you leave it, the heavier it feels.

But the worst part… is the guilt.

That voice in your head that kicks in.
Why can’t you just do it?
You’ve had all day.
Other people are dealing with way more than you and still managing.

And then the shame creeps in.
Because you don’t know if you’re actually struggling, or if you’re just letting it win.
You don’t know if this is something real, or if you’re just failing.
You question everything.

It feels like you’re watching it happen in slow motion.
You know what’s coming. You feel the overwhelm building.
But even with that awareness, you still can’t pull yourself out of it.

And that’s what messes with your head.
Because if you can see it coming… why can’t you stop it?

You start to wonder if it’s even real.
Maybe you are just being lazy.
Maybe you are just avoiding everything.
Maybe you’re the problem.

But deep down, it doesn’t feel like laziness.
It feels like being frozen.
Like something heavy has settled in your chest and no matter how much you push, nothing moves.

So you sit with it.
Letting the messages go unanswered.
Letting the list grow longer.
Letting people down.
Letting yourself down.

And still, the world keeps turning.
People carry on like it’s all fine.
They do the things. Show up. Keep going.

And you’re just stuck.

It’s not that you don’t want to move.
It’s that everything inside you feels like it’s already run out of energy before the day’s even begun.

This part… this is the part no one sees.
Because it doesn’t look dramatic.
It looks like silence. Like nothing.
But it’s not nothing. It’s everything.

You’re not weak.
You’re not making it up.
You’re tired.
Tired of pretending it’s fine.
Tired of carrying guilt around for things that never should’ve felt this hard.

And maybe right now, all you can do is sit with that truth.
Not fix it. Not force your way through it. Just name it for what it is.

You’re struggling.
And that’s real.