@help🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 Sometimes your mind convinces you that you are stuck and have no choice—but you still do. You can gently prove this to yourself by starting small. Try delaying the behavior for 10 minutes; when those 10 minutes are over, see if you can add another 10, and so on. If you slip, that is okay—next time, try again and maybe go for 15 minutes. Remember, it is about progress, not perfection—repeat that to yourself: progress, not perfection. Think of it like a workout, but for your mind: every repetition, every small delay, is building your mental strength over time.
Imagine you’re working in a library of half‑finished stories.
Every book on the shelf is missing its last page, and people keep coming in, worried and confused, asking, “How does my story end? Is it bad? Did I mess everything up?” They hand you their book and beg you to tell them the meaning of what happened. Being the “meaning closer” is like being the person who always feels responsible for writing that last page for everyone—yourself, other people, even random situations. You feel you must close the gap, tie up the loose ends, and give a final explanation that makes everything safe and certain.
So when something small happens—a strange thought, an odd feeling, an awkward interaction—your brain opens the book and says, “This needs a meaning. Now.” And you rush in with interpretations:
“This thought must mean I’m a bad person.”
“That look from them must mean they hate me.”
“This doubt must mean something is deeply wrong.”
You don’t just notice events; you feel obligated to finish them with a clear meaning, like you’re the editor of reality. If you don’t, it feels unfinished, dangerous, or morally wrong—like leaving a book with a blank final page.
But the truth is, not every story needs you to close it. Some chapters in life are allowed to stay open‑ended, vague, or unresolved. You are allowed to put the book back on the shelf, even if the last page isn’t written yet.
Healing, in this analogy, is:
Letting some books stay unfinished without forcing a meaning.
Accepting that “I don’t know exactly what this means” is a valid last page—for now.
Trusting that not every feeling, thought, or event needs a final verdict from you.
You are not the universe’s “meaning closer.” You are a reader and participant, not the sole author of what everything must mean. And it’s okay—healthy, even—to let some endings stay soft, unclear, and open.
