Frustrations

Paralyzed by Too Many Ideas

Sometimes, I feel completely stuck—paralyzed by having too many ideas and not knowing where to start. It’s as though I know so much, yet not enough, and that gap creates fear and uncertainty. The more I learn, the more I realize how little I truly know. I find myself questioning whether the content I create even matters because it feels like common sense to me. But I’m learning to recognize that my knowledge isn’t universal. I’m privileged to have it, and it’s worth sharing.

The Comparison Trap

I feel incredibly blessed and grateful, yet envy creeps in when I see others who seem to “have it all.” At the same time, I know there are likely people who view me in that same light. I need to accept the stage of life I’m in—planning for the future while letting go of the anxiety around it. I can’t control everything. I need to trust that things will unfold with time and remain open to opportunities.

A Vision Without a Map

I have a vision of where I want to go, but I don’t know how to get there, and that’s okay. My timeline is long, and I need to stop letting the comfort of my daily routine hold me back from pursuing my goals. I need to embrace temporary discomfort. As a runner, I’m no stranger to being uncomfortable, but this chronic dissatisfaction feels different. If I can keep the bigger picture in mind, maybe it’ll all be worth it.

To move forward, I need to define what success looks like for me—what a “successful day” truly means. For instance, I love waking up without an alarm, but I also love meeting friends for an early morning run and coffee. This means I have to “suffer” by setting an alarm and dealing with fatigue, but the reward is feeling part of a community, building relationships, and starting my day with connection. Yet, it also requires discipline, like going to bed early, which I don’t always manage well.

I’ve noticed patterns—like how caffeine and a lack of rest leave me fatigued yet unable to nap. I recognize these correlations but often let them slide because they feel short-term. I tell myself, “I’ll just try again tomorrow.” I’m also in a unique phase of life where I have running friends for the first time, and I’m enjoying it so much that I want to savor every moment before we all move away in a few months.

The Productivity Tug-of-War

Balancing my priorities is another challenge. For example, I feel successful when I hit my step goal, but sitting down to focus on computer work conflicts with that. I’ve found a decent balance by taking short walks during lunch and in the evening, but it’s still a tug-of-war. As a nurse, I’m on my feet at work, so steps aren’t an issue there. But on days off, I wrestle with the tension between productivity and movement.

I find myself envying friends who can run, grab coffee, and then work remotely. Meanwhile, I feel stuck trying to be productive—applying for jobs, tackling school projects, or drafting blog posts. I place a lot of value on productivity, but this often backfires. My inner critic says things like, “It’s 10 a.m., and all you’ve done is run,” or “It’s 1 p.m., and you haven’t hit your steps or accomplished anything meaningful.”

When I hit roadblocks—like spending hours fixing an error in R with no progress—I feel like I’ve wasted time. I think, “I could’ve spent those two hours doing anything else and been better off.” I know I need to give myself more grace and allow space to relax, but I also feel like I haven’t earned it. I get stuck in this loop of guilt: I feel like I should be doing something, but I don’t know what that “something” is.

Stress in the Search for Clarity

What’s ironic is that my Garmin measures stress levels, and the data reveals that I’m least stressed at the hospital, where my responsibilities are clear. When I’m at home, trying to be productive, my stress levels skyrocket because I put so much pressure on myself to work toward a dream job I haven’t even defined yet. At work, I feel content dedicating my day to patient care, knowing exactly what’s expected of me.

To reduce this stress, I need to clearly define my goals. Breaking them down into small, realistic steps with timelines would give me peace of mind. If I know that what I’m doing today contributes to the bigger picture, I can feel satisfied, even if the progress feels small. Every day has its own agenda and purpose, and I need to trust that the pieces will come together over time.

Questioning My Path

Today, I completed a presentation for my strength and conditioning analytics class on a journal article about using a warm-up drill to measure neuromuscular fatigue levels before soccer competitions. Honestly, it wasn’t a topic I was particularly interested in, which only added to my frustration. One of the supposed perks of graduate school is the ability to study topics you’re passionate about. But lately, I’ve been questioning if the program I’m in truly aligns with my interests and career goals.

The program has a strong focus on team sports—primarily soccer and lacrosse—and revolves around data collection for things like strategy and overall fatigue management. Player Load is a big theme. While I understand its importance, I’m more drawn to clear applications in health and physiology. I want to explore the health and performance optimization of distance runners, as well as issues related to diabetes and heart disease. The emphasis on team sports and strategy feels like it overshadows the aspects of exercise and health analytics that resonate most with me.

Maybe I need to approach it with a more open mind, but my focus remains fixed on endurance athletes and their unique physiological challenges. I’m learning valuable tools like R, Power BI, and Tableau, which is exciting. However, much of it is self-taught. The professors provide resources, but we’re left to figure things out and apply them to our specific interests on our own. This makes me wonder: Could I be learning these skills independently, outside of a formal program? Sure, I wouldn’t have the degree to validate my knowledge, but in today’s world, isn’t experience and a portfolio of projects just as valuable for landing a meaningful job?

Making a Broader Impact

Ultimately, I want to feel like the work I’m doing has a broader impact. Nursing has taught me the value of making a difference in people’s lives—every day, I have the chance to educate, comfort, and care for my patients and their families. And while it’s rewarding, it feels temporary, like putting a bandage on something bigger. I want to contribute to something scalable, something with a mission that reaches far beyond the individuals I encounter on a daily basis. I want to apply my knowledge and grow it further to make a lasting impact—whether that’s in health analytics, endurance performance, or something I haven’t even considered yet.

Quieting the Anxiety

So, what can I do to make my anxiety go away and actually believe it will all work out?

The truth is, I’m realizing that the anxiety may never fully go away, and maybe that’s okay. It’s part of the process when you’re navigating big decisions and trying to carve out your place in the world. But I can take steps to quiet it and keep it from running the show.

First, I can focus on the things within my control. I can keep learning, building my skills, and staying curious about the things that light me up. I don’t have to have it all figured out right now, but I can keep moving forward.

Second, I can reframe my perspective. Maybe this graduate program isn’t perfect, but it’s giving me tools I wouldn’t have had otherwise. Every experience—whether it feels perfectly aligned or not—is teaching me something valuable about myself and my path. The discomfort I feel now might be what pushes me toward the clarity I’m searching for.

And finally, I can remind myself that it’s okay to pivot. Life isn’t linear, and career paths rarely are. If I discover that this program isn’t the right fit, it doesn’t mean I’ve failed; it just means I’ve learned more about what I truly want. The key is to keep showing up, to trust that the steps I’m taking—however small—are leading me toward where I’m meant to be.

I don’t have all the answers yet, but I’m learning to trust the process. I’m working on believing that it will all work out—maybe not in the way I expect, but in a way that’s meaningful, impactful, and uniquely mine.