Unclipping My Wings:

Subject: Immediate Resignation from the Role of Self-Skeptic Inner Saboteur

To: Internal Committee of Overthinkers and Regret Managers

I respectfully - but forcefully, somewhat resentfully, passive-aggressively, enthusiastically, peacefully, a little bit freely, happily, cheerfully, confidently, boldly, wholeheartedly, authentically, with conviction, without inhibition, and with no self-loathing or hesitation, reflection, or criticism - write this letter to officially and effectively resign from the unpaid role of “Self-Skeptic Inner Saboteur.”

Yes, a long list of adjectives, which took years of emotional labor, personal failure, chronic favor, inner tremor, fractured honor, buried pride, crushed esteem, crumpled mirror, dim glitter, lost laughter, wasted time, sleepless nights, joyless life, deprived of peace and pleasure, abandoned dreams, no dignity, ashes of desires, powerless reign, muted rage, drenched in shame, stripped of grace, a bankrupt soul with hollow stature to keep it all whole, a face without a name, a reputation dragged through the mud with reminiscence of self-respect - I have earned it all by putting pride on sale and pawning my mane. I have groomed and pampered a sacrificial lamb and called it a higher self-sham. The sham was created brick by brick, doubt by doubt, excuse after excuse, over the years and not so far away with exhausted endurance and a chained spirit from never-ending growls—starting from troublesome teenhood to embarrassing crowds.

I have gone from Jim Rohn’s wisdom to GaryVee’s boldness to Mel Gibson’s rage to David Goggins’s pain cave to Gabor Mate’s emotional reign to Brene Brown’s vulnerability, from Tony Robbins’s high-fives to David Gayham’s tight ties and inevitably back to Jim Rohn again—all while self-doubting and second-guessing myself and fueling my higher self-sham with remarkable consistency, success, flair, and flame.

With all these accolades, I was hired in the company of self-doubt and slaves for the job of self-skeptic with special skills in inner cryptic. I worked in a room with a desk full of doomed tombs, self-doubts, grey walls laced with uninspirational quotes, sear roles, trolls, moles, and broken souls—and a calendar with pictures of failures, frustrations, procrastination timelines, and give-up deadlines. My performance reviews included ratings of overperforming in anxiety, shame, rejection, judgment, fear, despair, sneer, swear, and lair. The buzzwords included “hustle hard” and “try again later”. The team meeting agenda included hesitation rate, self-criticism and shame, panic per project, and monthly regret reports. Then we used to have our annual shame meetings and procrastination retreats in a land called Imposter Syndrome.

My responsibilities included, but were not deluded - just confused, misused, and mildly amused;

Sabotaging every chance to participate in dramatics, causing a headache of never-ending habit.

Grilling my efforts like barbecue rabbit - seasoned with anxiety, overthinking, and some cheddar.

I also contributed by compiling an endless list of self-doubt and inner treasons - to stop myself season after season from becoming a doctor, an actor, a writer, a singer, and a reader with a little bit of a ringer.

Successfully procrastinating for a year then took a break to restart next year.

I was currently working on a self-sabotage project—leading from the front whenever there was a crisis.

Successfully achieved milestones of lowering self-esteem; panic attacks increased and zero actions achieved.

I held this position not for one year but for a full 14 years. I even built a system called procrastination. Hired five faithful assistants who worked 24/7: a second-guesser, an overthinker, Ms. Procrastination, Ms. Imposter, and the head of security named Quitter. I trained them, groomed them, never really freed them, and mentored them into cute little sinners who now run their own departments, armed with overthinking software and self-doubt algorithms.

I have also created a handover list that includes systematic files of overthinking to sinking, self-loathing to sugar-coating, guilt-floating to gloating, and pain-cloaking to self-choking. Pending tasks include, but are not limited to, self-reflecting, rooting, synching, rethinking, unlinking, understanding, and self-believing.

Now that I have paid my dues and am sitting on my sofa with a coffee cup mocha, I am in my persona with Zein, stuff, and sona - with nothing left but only Corona. I am giving up one last time with much hindsight. I have finally decided to move on and survive— one last time. I am resigning from this reign, pain, vein, drain, strain, and train—the toxic chain. I am moving on to survive all my fears for the very first time, and I am hereby devoting my time to my inner sunshine, prime, climb, divine, align, sublime, timeline, and lifeline; self-acceptance; confidence; guidance; resistance; persistence; distance; assistance; and consistent alliance.

In this moment, under no illusion, with a heart full of conclusion, I am promoting myself to self-starter, self-believer, self-healer, self-truster, self-witness, self-dreamer, self-lifter, self-embracer, and self-honorer. It's going to take time, but it's going to be mine, very fine, and I am going to shine very much this time, and it's what is needed for me to grow in this lifeline.

Yours previously, now with wings that fly,

Kaukab

(Exit Checklist: Returned my badge of shame and self-doubt)