This weekend, I did a lot of thinking and realized that my desire for a relationship isn’t about love—it’s about distraction. A way to avoid the work I need to do.
My mind has latched onto this man because moving forward scares me. Doing the work, achieving what I truly want—it’s daunting. Because the truth is, change and growth are terrifying. What if, even after I accomplish everything, I’m still not happy? What if I’m still not loved?
I know this is just an unhealthy coping mechanism, but I haven’t figured out how to break the cycle yet. It’s the same with overeating—just yesterday, I spent 40 euros on KFC. It’s the same with online shopping. I keep telling myself that he doesn’t like me, that this is nothing more than a distraction from reality, but the thought still lingers.
The truth is, this isn’t about relieving stress. It’s about giving my brain something—anything—else to fixate on. Like procrastinating with Netflix or doom-scrolling on YouTube, this is just another way to put off facing what actually matters.
On a brighter note, I’ve been doing well with my weight loss. I haven’t been as consistent with the gym as I’d like, but I’m still making progress, and that counts. Tonight, I’m just going to study and unwind—I didn’t sleep well last night, and I’m exhausted. A quiet evening sounds perfect.















