Anthony Silva

I recently took a step back to look at the way I approach work and achievement, and it hit me: I rarely feel a true sense of accomplishment. Instead, when I finish a task or reach a goal, I feel a faint wave of relief, like a weight temporarily lifted off my shoulders. Then, almost instantly, I’m back in the cycle, signing up for something else, with that familiar feeling of tension creeping in. It’s like I’m caught in this loop where the satisfaction of success is swapped out with the relief of survival, only to be replaced by new pressures I willingly take on.

Why do I keep setting myself up for this? There’s an anxiety in the process, a low-level hum of stress that seems to drive me forward. Yet the reward feels hollow, more like ticking a box than savoring a win. It’s as if I’m always looking toward the next thing, expecting that somehow the feeling will change, that this time the achievement will bring a sense of contentment or pride. But time and time again, I find myself right back at the beginning, facing a new project or goal with the same mild dread and quiet hope.

Maybe it’s about redefining success—not just as a finish line, but as a way to appreciate the journey itself. Or maybe it’s a sign to prioritize things differently, to break the cycle by choosing projects that feel more meaningful rather than simply achievable. I’m not sure of the answers yet, but I do know that the current cycle needs breaking. It’s not just about what I accomplish but about finding a way to feel at peace with each step of the process, not just the relief of it being done.