Being noticed feels like being trapped. So I ghost opportunities.

Success, to me, means more expectations, more performance, more masking.
And that fills me with dread rather than pride.

I gave it a good go. I managed fairly well for 25 years, and then bailed at the peak of my career with a breakdown. My job was objectively good and that was part of the problem. The better I did, the more stuck I felt.

It’s become apparent that my systematising, process-driven brain can make itself very useful. But with usefulness comes demand, and with that, pressure to maintain a version of myself that feels captive inside a mask.

I feel much more comfortable residing in insignificance.

Every time I do something well, the quiet satisfaction of a job done is quickly replaced by the pressure of someone wanting me to do it again.

I illustrated a birthday card the other day. Before I knew it, it had gone around the family, and suddenly I was being nudged into producing another for someone else.

I felt the urge to disappear. Instead of enjoying the praise, I felt the panic to perform.

It seems strange that recognition becomes threatening, especially when being noticed appears to be what most of the world is chasing.

But for me, being noticed feels less like being seen, and more like being enclosed.

Does anyone else experience this kind of reflex? It feels like self-sabotage and self-preservation all in one.