Are You Climbing a Huge F@%king Ladder That’s Leaning Against the Wrong Wall?
I didn’t fall apart because I failed. I fell apart because I succeeded—at the wrong thing.
For years, I was climbing. Relentlessly. Responsibly. Respectably.
Each rung felt like progress. Each step got me further from the ground… and further from myself.
From the outside, it looked like momentum. From the inside, it felt like suffocation.
That’s the danger no one talks about.You can spend your whole life climbing a huge fucking ladder— only to realise, one quiet moment too late, it’s leaning against the wrong wall.
The Ladder Looked Sensible
I did what you’re supposed to do.
Work hard.
Be disciplined.
Stay strong.
Don’t complain.
Keep going.
I built a life that made sense on paper. Structure. Routine. Responsibility. Achievement.
And yet, something inside me was dying slowly—and politely.
No drama.
No breakdown at first.
Just a numbness that crept in like fog.
I wasn’t lost. I was misaligned.
The Trap of Progress
Here’s the real trap:
Progress feels good—even when it’s taking you in the wrong direction.
Every rung gives you a dopamine hit.
Every achievement buys you more approval.
Every step upward makes it harder to stop.
Because stopping means asking a terrifying question:
“What if I’ve been wrong?” Not wrong about effort. Not wrong about discipline.
But wrong about direction.
That question is existential.
And most people avoid it at all costs. So they keep climbing.
The Higher You Climb, the Harder It Is to Jump
At some point, the ladder becomes a prison.
You’ve invested too much.
Built too much identity around it.
Too many people expect you to keep going.
So you tell yourself:
“It’s too late now.”
“I’ve come too far.”
“I’ll finish this chapter first.”
But chapters don’t finish themselves.
And life doesn’t wait for your comfort.
My Break Up Didn’t Break Me — It Revealed Me
When my life finally cracked open, it felt like the end.
Everything I’d built—everything I was—collapsed.
But here’s the truth I couldn’t see at the time:
The ladder didn’t collapse.
The illusion did.
What broke wasn’t my life.
It was the story I was living inside.
The story that said:
“Endure now. Live later.”
“Be strong. Ignore the voice.”
“Safety matters more than truth.”
That story nearly cost me everything. The Wall Matters More Than the Ladder
This is the part no one teaches us:
It’s not about how high you climb.
It’s about what your ladder is leaning against.
Is it leaning against:
Someone else’s expectations?
Childhood conditioning?
Fear disguised as responsibility?
A version of success that was never yours?
Or is it leaning against:
Meaning?
Presence?
Freedom?
Truth?
Most people never stop to check the wall.
They just keep climbing—and call it commitment.
The Body Always Knows First
Before the mind catches on, the body knows.
Tight chest.
Chronic fatigue.
Restless sleep.
Loss of joy.
Constant distraction.
These aren’t weaknesses.
They’re signals.
Your body whispering:
“This isn’t it.”
But whispers are easy to ignore—until they become screams.
Stepping Off the Ladder Feels Like Death
Let me be honest.
Stepping off the ladder felt like dying.
Loss of identity.
Loss of certainty.
Loss of status.
Loss of who I thought I was supposed to be.
But staying on it would have been a slower death.
One that looked successful.
One that got applause.
One that buried me alive.
The Sea Didn’t Ask for My Resume
When I stripped life back—movement, breath, water, silence—I remembered something ancient.
The sea doesn’t care what you’ve achieved.
The wind doesn’t reward effort.
The body doesn’t lie.
Out there, there’s no ladder.
No hierarchy.
No applause.
Just truth.
And truth has weight.
It asks:
“Are you present?”
“Are you honest?”
“Are you alive?”
Redefining Success in Your 40s
Your 40s aren’t about climbing faster.
They’re about choosing wisely.
This is the decade where the ladder gets questioned.
Where endurance stops being heroic.
Where alignment matters more than ambition.
It’s the moment you stop asking:
“How far can I go?”
And start asking:
“Is this even where I want to be?”
A Brutal, Liberating Question
So I’ll ask you directly—no soft edges, no spiritual bypassing:
Are you climbing a huge fucking ladder that’s leaning against the wrong wall?
And if you are…
What would happen if you stopped?
If you climbed down?
If you chose again?
Not recklessly. Not impulsively. But honestly.
You Don’t Need to Burn Your Life Down
This isn’t about quitting everything.
It’s about realignment.
Tiny course corrections.
Truthful conversations.
Listening to the voice you’ve been muting.
Living now—not later. You don’t need a new ladder. You need a new wall.
Final Truth
One day, the climb will end.
And the only thing that will matter is not how high you went—
but whether your life actually felt like yours.
Don’t wait for collapse to wake you up.
Check the wall.
Then choose.
What “ladder” in your life are you currently climbing — and what “wall” is it leaning against?
What inner signals (feelings, body responses, recurring thoughts) have you been ignoring that might be telling you your direction isn’t right?
If you stepped off the ladder for a moment, what new possibility or direction might you explore that feels more honest and life-giving?
