No matter what I do, no matter how much I accomplish in life, I have never been able to shake a persistent and overpowering sense of failure that has haunted me for years. Every week, at least once (usually more often), a thought assaults me: you could have been so much more, if only you had tried harder.
I hate the critic inside. She is biased against me, and implacable. I can't escape her. Nothing I do or say (nothing anybody else does or says, for that matter) will change her mind. I am a failure in her eyes. My transgressions are copious and legendary, and I will never redeem myself.
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