Let's be honest here. How many times have you ended up in a situation like this: stiff and inconsolable in bed while covered in the warm, tightening embrace of your blankets, worrying until sunrise about how you're going to bomb that final exam, exaggerate that final paper, or screw up that presentation?

Is your bedtime somewhere after 2 a.m.? Do you find yourself in front of a computer trying to search the "benefits" of an all-nighter? Do you have a collection of carbonated energy drinks stashed in your miniature fridge that you pray to daily?

Really? Just me? Well, alright then. But, if you had related to any of these, then I'd say you're either an overachiever, a procrastinator, or some funky mixture between the two.

I'd guess that in most people, they're a bit of both. Having high hopes, yet disappointing realities. Not that this is at all a bad thing, depending on your definition of how frequently you want/expect to work, how much of a perfectionist's standard you hold yourself to, etc. In fact, it's great to have high expectations at times because there's some goal you have in mind! But, it's when you have to start walking towards that objective where it becomes a different story.

I'm no exception; it's been a real divide I've been made aware of time and time again. That time I decided to take more AP classes than I needed to my senior year when I could have been enjoying the last of high school. Having to spend two hours traveling almost daily to attend programs in my after-school college prep program and coming home, grappling to find the strength to work. Now, in the last month of my freshman year, I have to get through multiple projects, some work in a class I have difficulties with, and somehow try to stay sane and afloat mentally throughout it all.

I'm no stranger to overachieving. I've made references to it in the past. I've spent the entire week of spring break worrying about how I can get my work done, and berating myself if I fail my expectations. I've fought back at times. There have been points and instances where I blame external factors; maybe the society we live in is too capitalist and cutthroat in terms of competition, or it may be due to the racial disadvantage I didn't ask for. But no matter how much of this may be true, it always comes back to me at the end of the day. I also have to realize that this is also partially my fault; I sought out opportunities that I thought would help me become a better adult, become a better representation of myself. I asked for this to happen.

And, once again, have they worked? It's a question I ask myself constantly. I've done a bunch of public speaking, have done some cool stuff, have made my family proud of me. Still, I have a crap load of anxiety before I speak in a group. Still, I often feel that I'm not good enough in whatever I do. Still, I'm not very confident with my abilities. The impostor syndrome is real.

Sometimes, admitting your own fears to yourself can make the difference between pushing forward and holding yourself back. I can say that yes, I am afraid of failing tasks; I am afraid of many things and my brain doesn't always define me. And somehow, even on the brink of exhaustion, I somehow push through. Through the anxiety. Through the depression. Through to some blurry glimpse of a future that I'm too blind to see, but can at least imagine.

Maybe I'm deluding myself. Maybe I'll be cut short before I can do anything. But, I have no other choice. This life chose me to live it, and I have to work with it in any way I can.