I feel like a failure, because even when I’m happy, I am unable to enjoy the moment. I’m always thinking about what could go wrong. About how things never go well for me, so if life has been going smoothly lately, something horrible must be lurking around the corner.

I feel like a failure, because I’m terrified of things that an ‘average’ person would never think twice about. Getting stuck sitting next to a stranger on the bus. Stepping into a crowded elevator. Eating alone in the break room.

I feel like a failure, because my miniature mistakes feel massive. Someone else might blush and laugh off an awkward moment, but I will think about it for days. Weeks. Years. I’ll never stop replaying those embarrassment moments in my head.

I feel like a failure, because my best is never good enough. Even if I try my hardest, I can still come up with a list of mistakes I made, with a reason why I could have done better. I will always hate myself for not doing more, for not reaching my full potential.

I feel like a failure, because I dwell on what went wrong for longer than I should. My mistakes occupy all of my time, all of my thoughts. They torture me. They become the only thing I can think about during late nights when sleep refuses to come to me.

I feel like a failure, because everyone else makes life look so easy. They can get up on stage and give a speech when I can barely look a friend in the eye during a conversation. When I can barely introduce myself without stumbling over the words.

I feel like a failure, because the worst case scenario is the only one I pay any attention to. I never think about the good things that could happen to me. I only think about all the ways I could embarrass myself, all the ways I could ruin my life.

I feel like a failure, because I can’t stop myself from comparing my personality to everyone around me. I’m not as talkative as other people. I’m not as friendly as them. Not as interesting as them. I feel like I have nothing to offer.

I feel like a failure, because I’m full of self-doubt. I feel like I don’t fit in and never will. I feel like everyone deserves happiness, except for me.

I feel like a failure, because no one congratulates me on the little things, the things that are actually the hardest for me to bring myself to do. Making a phone call. Ordering food. Going on a first date. Attending a party.

I feel like a failure, because it’s easy to forget that my little successes are still successes — that every time I talk to a stranger or ask a question in class, I should be proud of myself. I should feel a little less like a failure.