The main things I need to give death to are: excuses for and beliefs about myself.
My problem is that the Self is contextual and my context has been isolation, institutionialisation, and unhealthy family for 33 years.
I literally don’t know how to be. And because I spent so much time in observation growing up, I never know if I’m doing or saying enough or too much.
That’s an excuse. It may be a fact, but it is still an excuse.
Why is it so hard to let go of what I know?
Living like this is most likely far worse than just taking more risks and putting myself out in the world.
I’ll just file this under my existential meanderings and sleep on it.