All of the suffering in my life can be drilled down to a single truth: I desperately want to be in control. Of everything. All the fucking time no matter what forever.
I want to know how each day will unfold. I want to be sure that every recipe I make turns out to be the most delicious food that anyone has ever eaten. I want to take charge of what everyone thinks about me in all situations, and I want those thoughts to be unfailingly positive. I want to be good at everything I try, and if I am not good at something I am most likely not going to continue doing it.
I want to know instinctively how to help all of the people in my life, and I want to be sure that I am providing value at all times. I am terribly afraid of not being valuable.
When it’s time to go running, I want to run the pace and distance that I am supposed to run and I want my fitness to progress in exactly the manner I’ve laid out.
I do not want surprises, ever. I want to be prepared.
I want the fridge to be organized a certain way because the strawberries belong where they belong so just leave them there and don’t put them on a different shelf, OKAY??
Control is my personal Everest, and I anxiously attempt to climb that looming mountain every single day.