Have you ever made a decision that felt so uniquely stupid, so specifically yours, that you were certain no one else in the history of humankind had ever done something so ridiculous?
And then came the shame.
The quiet, heavy kind. The “I should’ve known better” kind. The kind that whispers you’re the only person who could possibly mess this up.
Let me tell you something plainly: you’re not special in your mistakes.
I don’t mean that harshly. I mean it kindly. Relief-kindly.
There are millions of us out here making questionable calls, bad timing decisions, emotional choices, exhausted choices, overwhelmed choices. We are a species powered by caffeine and coping mechanisms. You are not alone in your “dumb thing.” You are simply human.
And right now? I’m in the trenches with you.
Tax Season: The Annual Descent
I’m an accountant. Which means tax season isn’t just busy — it’s biblical.
It’s clients emailing at 10:47 p.m.
It’s “just one quick question” that is never quick.
It’s angry clients.
Needy clients.
Different clients.
All the clients.
It’s balancing doctor’s appointments, family needs, spring cleaning guilt, weather mood swings, and the constant background hum of “you’re behind, you’re behind, you’re behind.”
It is everything happening all at once.
And I am not doing great.
I’m trying. I really am. I’m doing all the right things. I started gratitude journaling. I make lists of things that are objectively good in my life. I remind myself to be thankful. I even started brawling again — moving my body, sweating the stress out, letting my nervous system burn off some of the static.
And those things help.
But they don’t erase the chaos.
They don’t make tax season gentle.
They don’t build a safety net under the cliff I feel like I’m falling off.
Gratitude Is Not the Same Thing as Happiness
Here’s something I’m learning the hard way:
You can be grateful and still be miserable.
You can have amazing things happening and still feel like you’re drowning.
You can list ten blessings and still cry in your car.
Gratitude is recognition.
Happiness is a feeling.
They are not the same.
I have had genuinely great wins this season. Growth. Opportunities. Moments that past-me would have begged for.
And yet here I am, a tiny emotional gremlin, unable to separate “I am thankful” from “I feel okay.”
Sometimes I don’t even know who I am anymore.
Am I the competent professional?
The overwhelmed mom?
The ambitious builder?
The tired human?
Right now I feel like a worm.
Just… soft. Small. Exposed. In the dirt.
And that feeling is hard to admit.
The Myth of Being the Only One
When you’re overwhelmed, your brain becomes dramatic.
It tells you:
No one else is this bad at handling stress.
No one else is this tired.
No one else is failing at positivity like you are.
Everyone else is managing tax season better.
That is a lie.
Every accountant I know is white-knuckling it right now. Every working parent is juggling too much. Every ambitious person hits a season where the machine runs hot and sparks fly.
You are not uniquely broken.
You are uniquely tired.
That’s different.
“I Want to Be Happy” Is a Heavy Sentence
There’s something almost desperate about that sentence when you say it during burnout.
I want to be happy.
But sometimes the more productive question is:
What if I don’t need to be happy right now?
What if I just need to survive well?
Tax season isn’t a spa retreat. It’s a storm. You don’t smile through a storm. You anchor yourself. You lower the sails. You protect what matters and wait it out.
Maybe this season isn’t about happiness.
Maybe it’s about endurance.
Maybe it’s about proving to yourself that even when you feel like a worm in the dirt, you’re still alive. Still moving. Still doing the work.
Worms, by the way, are excellent for soil health. Quietly essential. Not flashy. Just necessary.
There’s something humbling about that.
You Are Allowed to Be in the Trenches
Here’s the permission slip:
You can be grateful and overwhelmed. You can be successful and exhausted. You can be strong and feel like you’re screaming. You can have wins and still want it to be over.
You are not a fraud because you’re tired. You are not ungrateful because you’re struggling. You are not weak because you want relief.
You’re in the trenches.
And trenches are temporary.
If You’re Here Too
If you’re reading this and thinking, “Oh. It’s not just me,” good.
It’s not.
Whatever season you’re in — tax season, newborn season, grief season, career transition season — you are not the only one quietly questioning your own resilience.
You don’t have to sparkle through it. You don’t have to brand it as growth. You don’t have to journal your way into bliss.
You just have to keep going.
One return.
One email.
One deep breath.
One small, stubborn act of continuing.
And when this season passes — because it will — you’ll look back and realize something:
You weren’t a worm.
You were composting.
Turning pressure into something that will grow later.
And that’s not weakness.
That’s survival.
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