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I’ll tell you how I stay motivated. I named my anxiety. No seriously. His name is Fred and he’s a fucking pain in the ass. I hate him. He’s annoying, mean, pushy, rude, and he constantly smells like cabbage. Now, I’m not one for real interpersonal violence (unless it’s in the octagon), but when I wake up and I’m in one of my periods of progress, I say to myself, “You’re goin’ down, Fred.” I also love video games, so I make a game out of it. Exposure is like gaining experience, leveling up my character. Getting better at deep breathing is like improving my fireball skill. Learning a new coping skill is similar to stumbling upon some epic imbued weapon. You should see my character at this point… much more badass than my actual outward appearance.
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