Sometimes the days come when the thoughts just take over.
I can sit completely still, without sound or distraction, but inside my head there’s a storm.
Thoughts about everything that was, everything I can’t do, and everything I may never get back.
I feel powerless.
A fear that this is how life will be — that my body and mind won’t come any further,
that the exhaustion, the headaches, and the fog won’t go away.
That what I have today is all I’ll ever have to work with.
I try to stay hopeful, but some days the thoughts don’t let go.
They whisper that I should be able to do more.
That I should be stronger, faster, healthier.
That I should have made it by now.
It’s exhausting, because deep down I know I’m doing my best —
but reason and emotion don’t always work together.
Sometimes fear sneaks in.
Fear of the future.
Of what will happen if I can’t keep working.
If I can’t keep going.
If people around me start to think I’ve just given up.
Because they see me on the good days —
the days I smile, play football, or manage to do a little more —
but they don’t see what it costs.
They don’t see the days after.
I’m afraid of not being enough.
Afraid of becoming — or seeming — uninteresting to others,
because I can’t do as much as I used to,
because I can’t always join in on conversations or activities the way I once could.
It’s a painful thought — that feeling of slipping a bit to the side,
of not living up to my own or others’ expectations.
I know most people don’t think I’ve given up,
but I still fear that some might think I’m just lazy.
That they see me on a good day and don’t understand what’s behind it.
That they don’t see how much effort it takes just to make it through the day,
or how much rest I need afterwards.
That thought hurts.
Because I know how hard I try.
And still, it’s easy to feel misunderstood —
as if my effort doesn’t count when the results don’t show.
It does something to my confidence.
It creates unease, uncertainty.
Because who am I now, when I can’t do what I used to?
It’s easy to overthink.
To try to plan your way out of uncertainty,
even when there isn’t an answer.
But I try to remind myself that thoughts aren’t facts — they’re just thoughts.
I try to meet them with a little calm, a little space to breathe.
To tell myself: It’s okay to be scared — but you don’t have to believe everything you think.
Because I know I’ve come far, even if I don’t always see it myself.
I know I’m still standing, even when the ground shakes beneath me.
And I know I still have hope —
because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t keep trying.
I don’t think I’m alone in feeling this way.
There are many of us carrying the same fear —
of not being enough,
of not being understood,
of not being seen.
But maybe the strength lies right there —
in saying it out loud,
in daring to be honest about it.
Because when I do, it loses some of its power.
– Mats
💭 “Small steps are still progress – even when no one else sees them.”
✨ “Not every day has to be good – but there’s something good in every day.”
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- Indre motivasjon – når ingen klappar
- When Motivation Doesn’t Show Up
- Når motivasjonen ikkje kjem
- Eg er meir enn det eg produserer
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