🌐𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙴𝙽𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙴- 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐

Compensate.

I hate that word, I used to think it a lot, I used to think I owed the world something for tolerating me, that my existence was an ever increasing debt that soon would be collected if I didn't excel in everything and did as I was told. And so that was what I did, I even did things I was told by terrible people just to have a sense of praise, a sense of achievement after reaching the top. When there is nothing left to climb, people only notice when you step down, the perfectionism is the normal and anything less is a sin, something that brands you unfit for society. I thought I owed the world for letting me stay in it, for tolerating my mistakes, I let people do as they please thinking it was right, I did well in studies, but doing the right thing should not feel horrible. It should not leave you hollowed and isolated- too tired to hold your eyes open, to stand up and carry yourself to the next day, to confuse people's ulterior motives with love and attention. Doing the right thing shouldn't feel like that, shouldn't be like that. It took me all to long that it was the right thing for everyone but me, and compensation as a word had been warped in to an abusive self-delusion. Ultimately during that time, I was all I had, because nothing I built with others was genuine, I had created an echo chamber of my own horrific truth and I spited myself for wasting space. I felt I was repulsive, pathetic, but I was a child. And none of this was my fault because I didn't know any better, I wasn't taught any better, I wasn't given the support I had needed at the time- and for that I forgive myself.

Devotion and generosity without limits is self-harm.

-Sentient