I Don’t Know
It’s 4:37 AM on a Saturday morning. I went to bed early, so now I’m up, restless.
Lately, I’ve had a lot to say, but no real drive to say it. I don’t know if it’s a lack of motivation or if my mind is just overloaded. Either way, something feels off. I have my high days, but I also have days I wish I could skip entirely, just fast forward and try again. Weeks pass, and it starts to feel like I’m on autopilot.
I think constantly, but it feels like there’s no real outlet.
I do feel like I’m in some kind of transition. Like the version of me I used to be is slowly dissolving into something new. But growth doesn’t always feel good, it feels unfamiliar, sometimes even unsettling. It feels like I’ve outgrown the space I’m in, like I’ve filled it to capacity, and there’s no room left.
But the box won’t open.
I can feel it loosening, just slightly, but I’m still stuck inside. And when I think about it, it makes sense. A box taped shut doesn’t just open on its own. Usually, you need something sharp to cut through it.
I don’t have that.
So instead, I’m inside this box, growing and pushing against it, waiting for the pressure to become too much for it to hold. Like something expanding beyond what it was meant to contain.
And the hardest part is, it feels like I’m doing it alone. There’s no one on the outside cutting the tape. No one pulling the lid open. Just me, inside, waiting for something to give.
I don’t know when that moment comes. I don’t know what’s on the other side.
But I can feel that it’s time.
My mind doesn’t really rest anymore. If I’m not thinking about the world, about injustice, about what’s wrong - I’m thinking about work, or my future, or who I’m becoming. It’s constant. Unregulated. Like my thoughts don’t know how to slow down.
And maybe that’s part of it.
Maybe I’m changing faster than I know how to handle. Maybe this is what growth feels like when you’re in the middle of it, not clarity, but confusion. Not certainty, but pressure.
It’s like I have the directions, but I’m in the wrong car, or carrying baggage I was never meant to keep.
And I’m starting to realize that not everything that once felt aligned still does.
Right now, the only honest way I can describe life is simple:
I don’t know.
Beautifully expressed. I’m in the same place right now.
Some of the books I’ve been into lately describe this as liminal space, the moment between and ending and a new beginning. The cocoon. The stage where the caterpillar dissolves so it can be reformed and take on a new role/ journey.
As young men, this period is about taking inventory and growing mindful of the patterns that are not generative. A time to make radical change.
The most courageous thing to do in this time is to dream. To keep our eye set on the life we’d like to live and surrender to the current washing over us. To live faithfully.
Affirming you begin to experience relief, and that the subtle directions be amplified.
That sounds heavy, but also really honest.
I don’t think anything is “wrong” with you. It sounds like you’re in that in-between space where you’ve outgrown something, but haven’t fully stepped into what’s next yet. And yeah… that part can feel lonely and confusing as hell.
But I don’t think you’re as stuck as it feels. The fact that you can see it, name it, and sit with it means something is already shifting. Even if it doesn’t feel like movement yet.
You might not have something “sharp” to open the box, but sometimes the growth itself is what breaks it open. Slowly, then all at once.
And for what it’s worth… you’re not the only one who’s felt like this. That “I don’t know” feeling doesn’t mean you’re lost, it usually means you’re right in the middle of becoming.