• Mind Hacker
  • Posts
  • I Thought I Was Just Being “Normal” - Turns Out, I Was Barely Holding It Together

I Thought I Was Just Being “Normal” - Turns Out, I Was Barely Holding It Together

These daily habits seemed harmless... until I realized they were quiet cries for help.

Author

Faraz Ali
May 27, 2025

In partnership with

We all carry ghosts.
Not the ones in horror movies—
But the ones that live quietly inside us.
They smile politely.
They crack jokes in group chats.
They excel at their jobs.
And they cry only when the bathroom fan is loud enough to hide the sound.

For a long time, I thought those ghosts were just part of who I was.
Turns out, they were warning signs I never learned to read.

Find out why 1M+ professionals read Superhuman AI daily.

In 2 years you will be working for AI

Or an AI will be working for you

Here's how you can future-proof yourself:

  1. Join the Superhuman AI newsletter – read by 1M+ people at top companies

  2. Master AI tools, tutorials, and news in just 3 minutes a day

  3. Become 10X more productive using AI

Join 1,000,000+ pros at companies like Google, Meta, and Amazon that are using AI to get ahead.

I Thought Being Constantly Exhausted Was Just Adulthood

Growing up, I remember dragging my feet out of bed every morning.
Everyone around me said, “That’s life. Welcome to adulthood.”
So I believed it. I wore exhaustion like a badge.
Burnout became my brand.

In college, I’d crash for 16 hours after exams.
I’d call it “catching up on sleep.”
In reality, I was running from the noise inside my own head.

My body wasn’t just tired.
It was depleted from silently carrying years of anxiety, perfectionism, and self-loathing.

But no one tells you that in school.
They tell you to drink more water.
Work harder.
Smile more.
And so you do…
Until one day, you can’t.

I Thought Overthinking Everything Was Just Me Being “Cautious”

I used to rehearse simple conversations in my head.
Texting a friend? Took 10 minutes.
Ordering coffee? Needed a pep talk.

After social events, I’d lie in bed and dissect everything I said.
Why did I laugh so loud?
Did I make that joke weird?
Should I text them and apologize?

It got to a point where my inner voice wasn’t just loud—it was cruel.
And yet, I thought everyone experienced this.
I thought it was just part of being “self-aware.”

Until I saw a therapist during the pandemic.
And she gently said,
“That’s not self-awareness. That’s anxiety.”
I sat with that sentence for days.

I Thought My “Productivity” Was Impressive

But it was just my way of outrunning the silence.

People praised me for being “on top of things.”
I always had a color-coded planner.
I replied to emails within minutes.
I volunteered for everything.

But the truth?
Stillness scared me.
Rest made me restless.
Because when I stopped moving, the thoughts caught up.
The guilt. The shame. The questions with no answers.

I didn’t need another productivity hack.
I needed permission to rest without feeling worthless.

I Thought I Was “Independent”

But really—I just didn’t know how to ask for help.

I prided myself on handling everything myself.
I didn’t want to burden anyone.
Didn’t want to be “too much.”

When my grandfather passed away, I didn’t cry in front of anyone.
I planned the funeral logistics, managed the guests, helped with paperwork.
I was the “strong” one.

But alone in my room, I sobbed so hard my chest ached.

It took years to understand:
Being strong doesn’t mean being silent.
And being vulnerable isn’t weakness—it’s the bravest thing you can be.

I Thought My “Quirks” Were Harmless

Photo by Sasha Freemind on Unsplash

I joked about talking to myself.
About always checking the door twice.
About needing music to sleep because silence felt “too loud.”

I called it “just me being weird.”
But these weren’t quirks.
They were coping mechanisms—tiny ways my mind was trying to stay afloat.

A friend once told me, “You make mental illness look so put together.”
That sentence broke me.
Because I realized I’d spent years performing stability.

Wearing a mask so well that even I started to believe it.

Mental Illness Doesn’t Always Scream

Sometimes, it whispers.

It whispers in the way you cancel plans at the last second.
In the way you over-apologize for existing.
In the way you constantly feel like you're falling behind, even when you're doing your best.

Mental illness doesn’t always look like what you think.
It looks like “the reliable one.”
It looks like “the funny one.”
It looks like you, doing your best in a world that rarely stops to ask, “How are you, really?”

If Any of This Feels Familiar, You’re Not Broken

You’re just human.
A human who’s been carrying too much for too long without a map.

You don’t need to explain why you’re tired.
You don’t need to justify your sadness.
You don’t need to feel guilty for needing help.

Go to therapy.
Write it out.
Talk to a friend.
Take a walk without needing to make it “productive.”
Cry if you need to.
Laugh if you can.

And above all—stop telling yourself this is just “how it is.”

We Need Fewer High-Functioning Survivors

And more healed humans.

So many of us are silently struggling while appearing perfectly fine.
We wear smiles like armor.
We succeed, we serve, we survive.

But healing starts the moment you stop pretending.

If this resonated with you, please share it.
Leave a comment: What’s one habit you thought was harmless, but later realized was a quiet cry for help?

Let’s talk about the ghosts we’ve been carrying.
They deserve the light.

He’s already IPO’d once – this time’s different

Spencer Rascoff grew Zillow from seed to IPO. But everyday investors couldn’t join until then, missing early gains. So he did things differently with Pacaso. They’ve made $110M+ in gross profits disrupting a $1.3T market. And after reserving the Nasdaq ticker PCSO, you can join for $2.80/share until 5/29.

This is a paid advertisement for Pacaso’s Regulation A offering. Please read the offering circular at invest.pacaso.com. Reserving a ticker symbol is not a guarantee that the company will go public. Listing on the NASDAQ is subject to approvals. Under Regulation A+, a company has the ability to change its share price by up to 20%, without requalifying the offering with the SEC.

Reply

or to participate.