“Why do I feel useless?” It’s a question I find myself asking on days when I’m overwhelmed by a sinking sense of inadequacy. It’s a feeling that creeps in quietly but becomes deafening, turning simple moments into painful reminders that I’m not enough. Whether it’s because I didn’t meet a goal, messed up something important, or just woke up with that heavy weight on my chest, the feeling of being useless hits hard, and it feels like it’s swallowing me whole.

This feeling doesn’t always have a clear cause. Some days, it comes after a failure or a mistake, when I’m already beating myself up. Other days, it just appears out of nowhere, like a cloud that settles over me, obscuring the positive things in my life. It’s confusing because it’s not tied to one event or one moment—it’s an accumulation of self-doubt, fear, and frustration that seems to sit in my heart.

I often wonder if it’s because I’ve set expectations for myself that are impossible to meet. I’m always trying to be better, do more, and live up to this invisible standard that I’ve created in my head. I compare myself to everyone around me—their successes, their talents, their achievements—and in that comparison, I always fall short. It feels like no matter how hard I try, I’m never good enough, never doing enough, and that leaves me feeling small and unworthy.

The world doesn’t help either. We live in a society that constantly pushes us to do more, to be more, to succeed in visible, measurable ways. Social media is filled with stories of success—people living their dreams, hitting milestones, and making it look so easy. It’s hard not to feel like I’m falling behind, like I’m failing because I don’t have the same achievements to show. I start questioning my worth, wondering why I’m not like them, why I can’t seem to make my life feel meaningful in the same way.

And then there’s the internal pressure. The need to feel productive, to contribute, to make an impact on the world around me. When I’m not doing something that feels valuable, that sense of uselessness creeps in. I ask myself: What am I even contributing? Am I making a difference in anyone’s life? These questions haunt me, and the answers—when I can’t find them—feel crushing. It’s as if my worth is tied to what I produce, what I accomplish, and when I don’t meet that standard, I lose my sense of value.

But deep down, I know this feeling of uselessness is lying to me. I know that my worth isn’t measured by how much I do or how successful I appear to be. Yet, even knowing that, it’s hard to shake the feeling. It sticks with me, gnawing at my confidence, pulling me further into a place where I feel like I’m failing not just at life, but at being me.

I’ve started to realize that a lot of this feeling stems from my own harsh self-criticism. I’m quick to judge myself for what I perceive as shortcomings or failures, and I’m slow to give myself credit for the things I do well. I focus so much on what I haven’t done that I overlook the good things I have done. The small moments of kindness, the quiet achievements that may not be visible to the world but are still meaningful. I forget that just being human, just showing up every day, is valuable.

I also recognize that some of this feeling comes from burnout—trying too hard for too long without rest. When I push myself beyond my limits, I start to feel drained, empty, and, inevitably, useless. The exhaustion clouds my ability to see myself clearly, to recognize my worth apart from what I do. And in that haze of tiredness, it’s easy to believe the lie that I’m not contributing, that I don’t matter.

But I’m learning, slowly, that feeling useless doesn’t make it true. Feelings, while powerful, aren’t always reality. Just because I feel like I’m not enough doesn’t mean that I’m not. Just because I don’t see my impact doesn’t mean I’m not making one. It’s in the small, quiet acts of love and care that my worth shows up, even if I don’t always notice it.

I’m also starting to accept that being human means sometimes feeling lost or inadequate, but that doesn’t define me. It’s okay to have days where I don’t feel on top of the world, where I don’t achieve anything monumental. Those moments don’t take away from who I am or the value I bring. I’m learning to extend grace to myself, to see the beauty in just being, even when I don’t feel particularly useful.

Why do I feel useless? Because I’ve been measuring myself by standards that don’t reflect my true worth. But I’m working on changing that. I’m working on understanding that my value isn’t tied to how much I accomplish or how perfect I appear. It’s found in my kindness, my perseverance, my ability to love and care for others, and yes, even in my struggles.

It’s a journey, but I’m beginning to see that feeling useless doesn’t mean I am useless. I am enough, just as I am, and that’s a truth I’m holding onto even in the hardest moments.

-With love, H.