Monthly Reflection — August (Part II)
It’s an unpopular but cliché truth: to lead others, you need to know yourself first. This month, I faced a very deep blind spot — my own self-sabotage. Most people sabotage themselves because of fear — fear of success, fear of failure, or simply fear of stepping into the unknown. For me, the roots were very different. I realized I had invented this mechanism around the age of six as a kind of safety valve — a way to release excess energy when I couldn’t act. At the time, it was helpful: without it, that energy would have burned me from the inside. When I was a child, I carried an energy so strong it could have consumed me. A constant desire to move, change, break through walls — but there was no stage for it. When I couldn’t act, my system released the pressure through guilt, analysis-paralysis, chewing endlessly on failed conversations, and procrastination. That became my fuse. 🔥 When a stage for action exists — I become decisive, bold, charismatic. 🌊 When there is no stage — the old pattern switches on: analysis paralysis, distractions, illusions, netflix. And here’s the paradox: my biggest enemy is not when I face challenges that demand force, speed, or even disruption. I can handle those. My true enemy is stillness. People say “time defeats all enemies.” In my case, time defeats me first. Not because I lack strength or ideas, but because waiting — the inability or uncertainty of how to act — is the hardest state for me to endure. When there is no clear next step, no defined move, I don’t rest. I unravel. The pause itself becomes destructive: instead of holding ground, I start turning my energy against myself. Sometimes it looks like attachments that aren’t really mine — invented obligations, misplaced loyalty, keeping bonds that should have been cut long ago. Other times it looks like mental fog — replaying the same conversations, doubting past choices, or chasing illusions just to fill the silence. That’s how I sabotage myself: not through lack of strength, but through turning my strength inward until it consumes me.