“youre doing a great job, why are you mad?”

“i don’t think i’m doing a great job.”

“but you are though.”

“it doesn’t matter, i’m going to find a way to beat myself up over it.”

“but why?”

“because! i’ve been at this for a year and a half! i shouldn’t be making mistakes! i’m supposed to be good at this now. but here i am.”

“progress isn’t linear, it’s ok you aren’t getting it perfect.”

“but that doesn’t just make the feeling go away! you are already good at it and so is everyone else on the fucking planet. except me. if i was normal maybe i would have gotten it faster. but i’m...stupid.”

“stop, you aren’t.”

“oh wow, i magically feel better.”

“you are such a smart girl and you should be mad at yourself like this.”

“don’t think i am something i am not.”

“you don’t believe that.”

“yes i do. i believe it so much that it hurts.”

“why, you have some many people who love you and think so highly of you.”

“i...”