A month ago, I ended up in the emergency room. My chest hurt. I was nervous. Dizzy. Scared. Everything was fine, except me, which made everything not fine. The doctor said I might have anxiety. I didn't believe it. I still don't believe it. I even laughed. Me having a psychological problem? That can't be. That's impossible. I'm strong, positive, happy... But. I've lost my job, again, three months ago. And I wake up every night at three in the morning for no reason. Not only that, but I feel embarrassed. I work hard. I don't achieve anything. The more I worked, the more I failed. The more I failed, the more I worked. So I reached a point where I couldn't do it anymore. I remember staring at my screen for weeks after that day. I tried to code. I tried to write. Something was wrong. I'm getting closer to 40, and I keep repeating: I have to make it, I have to make it. I need to win. I'm tired of losing. But I keep losing. I did that for months until I couldn't do it anymore. So I ended up in an emergy room. I walked every day, exercised, and I was eating healthy. But I couldn't sleep. I thought I was okay, but my skin was dry, my eyes were dry, my soul was dry. But there's no other alternative. So I keep going and trying and suffering and not sleeping. Recently I was feeling a bit better, and I started writing again. But there's a chance that I push myself again to the limits. If your body is telling you to stop. Take a look at yourself. You may need to slow down. It's much better to work every day for a couple of hours than work for 12 and quit after two months. To me, there's no other path than keep trying. And if you are feeling the same, you are not alone. I feel inside I can do it. And you probably can too. You also might reach out and look for help; I didn't do it. I'm scared. But I might.