Decisions Decisions

Decisions run my life. The whole point of a decision is to grant yourself control over your own course. For me, decisions symbolize a lack of control. Once they hit me, the following process spirals out of control. My problem is hereditary. I find myself plagued by the inability to complete such a simplistic task. Decision making is like a shot of something sharp to a piece of glass. Its propulsion is quick and focused, planting itself into a large durable, but fragile landscape. And once it lands the plane stays whole as the tiny cracks rip through its solidarity, jutting and turning endlessly with no discernible direction. Unlike most, my brain follows those twisting paths far before the conclusion, weighing both sides at every turn. It is exhausting. Rarely am I satisfied with the end result. Rarely do I walk away without doubt.

Do I wait for what might come next. Or do I chose between the options I am faced with? Do I take a gamble? Or do I play it safe?

I should feel privileged to have this opportunity. Yet, I complain and run myself like a roller coaster, up and down, twist right, turn left. Until I'm left with no direction, worse than when I started.