Impostor Syndrome: Scholastic Edition

Finding myself waist-deep in a complex University degree at the moment and it is hard to get past constantly feeling inadequate and stupid. Ticking the boxes and walking backwards juggling flaming chainsaws through the cheese grater of institutional expectations while also working to support myself, I am utterly uncomfortable and quite disconsolate about my ability to successfully complete all tasks with which I am now reciprocally obligated. I am, in short, drowning in complexity and were it not that this represents some kind of self-inflicted perseveration and participatory masochism, the reasons for finding myself here might be even less certain.

I gain a modest proxy of self-validation through knowing that whatever stress and difficulty experienced here is absolutely meaningless in regard to the hardships that others endure in other parts of the world. Layered on top of this is the realisation that suffering and hardship is kind of what humanity does, just expressed in different ways and with diverse degrees of complexity. All of our compound sufferings are functional microcosms of the living matter and energy we embody that in its long, slow aspiration to self-control and intelligence seems only ever to generate more problems, more turbulence and the endlessly effervescing chaos of psychological and existential discomfort.

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