Life In-between – The Stratagem’s Archive

The Myth of Progress: How Endurance Keeps You Afloat but Never Lets You Thrive

What If You Were Doing Everything Right And Still Running In Place?

I’ve been circling this thought for years. The months leading up to now have been brutal — because it goes against nearly every piece of advice I’ve ever been given:

“If you endure long enough, you’ll be rewarded with progress.”

But the reason I keep returning to this thought is simple:

I have been enduring.

For a long time.

I’ve done what’s supposedly considered “right”:

Automatically saving.
Automatically investing.
Paying my bills on time.
Cleaning my apartment once a week.
Working out two to three times a week.
Canceling subscriptions that no longer serve me.
Cutting out friendships that were dragging more than elevating.

On paper, this is stability.

In practice, it’s maintenance.

Because the thing that keeps dragging me back onto the same treadmill — over and over — is my job.

I’ve been at the warehouse for four years. It’ll be five soon.

And no matter how disciplined I become outside of work, it keeps kicking me in the teeth.

Everyone Else Seems to Be Moving Ahead, Except Me

My job at the warehouse has been cutting back on hours — our freight volume decreased — and money has become the source of a lot of people’s anxiety lately.

It’s the same old stories you hear:

We’re not making our hours.
How am I supposed to pay my bills?
Would I be able to get another job?

But the stories that always cut me the deepest are when coworkers start saying they’re either looking for a new job, today is their last day, or they’re moving into a newer position.

It felt like someone stabbed me in the head.

It’s not jealousy.

It doesn’t feel like envy.

It’s grief.

I’m grieving because the coworkers who made work bearable are leaving.

I’m grieving because I waited for my turn to leave, but I’m still stuck waiting because I was told waiting would lead to progress.

A Job Process That Convinced Me That Waiting Was a Virtue

I’ve been trying to get into CBP for two years; I’ve been waiting for the next part of the process after completing the physical and medical exams, and it’s been quiet since.

As I was undergoing the process — after failing my first attempt with the home exams — I thought I was making progress and doing something else with myself.

The CBP officers I used to work with at my job told me the government process is very slow and it would take time to get through the next steps.

Their advice?

Wait until the process said you can’t continue.

So, I waited — because I was told that waiting was the reasonable and responsible thing to do next.

The Waiting is Hurting Me as Much as Enduring Has

The CBP hiring process is out of my hands, so I pushed the thought of it into the back of my mind and forgot about it for months.

That is, until a coworker reminded me that I was trying to get into a government job.

He mentioned leaving to become a correctional officer and that he was taking the test when he got home from work.

The fact that he was already undergoing the process told me that he was serious about leaving.

I felt the knife in my head twist sharper.

What am I supposed to do now?

Everyone else is leaving, making progress, tackling new challenges and opportunities, and I’m… jogging in place.

What This Feels Like in a Moving Body Going Nowhere

When you’re jogging in place, it feels as though nothing you’ve been doing is making things better.

When progress doesn’t arrive after a long span of effort, even meaningful and creative work feels suspiciously like coping.

I hate that it feels like that.

I’ve finally stabilized my life; I made sure my foundations weren’t going to collapse from under me, but now trying to go past the stabilizing phase feels like I’m trying to drag a ton of weight on my back and blaming myself when the weight drags me instead.

I’ve been paying the price of being responsible, being patient, and everything is showing up in my day-to-day:

I get up at 2 a.m.
I get to work by 4 a.m.
I sleep in my car before my shift to get parking.
I barely eat, but it’s canned food or spicy noodles rather than home-cooked meals.
I’m still awake staring at my iPad screen or at my ceiling at 11 p.m. – 12 a.m.

I can’t trust myself to bother trying something new because everything I built would destabilize faster than it took me to stabilize.

Not because I failed, or didn’t try hard enough; I’ve done all of that and more.

But each habit that kept me alive, kept me from collapsing from my constraints, became my own self-contained prison.

And yet my mind is screaming for movement, while my body likes keeping things the same.

The mismatch between my body wanting to remain in place and my mind screaming, “this can’t be all there is to my life,” wants to move.

My mind wants evidence that everything I’ve been working on, and working towards, wasn’t for nothing.

However, I don’t know what my next step is.

What This Feeling is Doing to Me

When my constraints and stability have been long overdue for payment, I haven’t been able to see beyond my today.

The future is terrifying. It has many unknowns, and it could collapse the very floor under my feet if I fail to plan ahead.

But plan for what?

Where am I supposed to go next?

What else could I be doing?

Too many questions, so few answers, and I can’t even begin to imagine what small step I could take to lift 1–5% of this weight off of my back.

I’ve learned that showing up keeps the weight from crushing me, but it doesn’t automatically lift it.

That part is still mine to figure out.

If You Made It to The End

If this landed for you in any way:

You don’t need to explain it or respond.

Quiet Nod

Tiny Wave 👋

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January 22, 2026

2025 is Nearly Over: What 5 Months Did to Me (And For Me)

Another Year Coming to a Close—Let’s Look Back Before We Look Ahead

Oh man. I can still feel the awkwardness of trying to force my blog’s identity into a “real life mastermind/villain” aesthetic.

My fourth article—the infamous “2025 Is Nearly Over: A 6-Month Reflection & Projecting Ahead”—was my attempt to be clever, narrating like a stylish antagonist.

What can I say? I liked fictional villains:

Mads Mikkelsen’s Hannibal (peak elegance)

BBC’s Moriarty (feral chaos gremlin energy)

Garou from One Punch Man (antihero goals)

But rereading that post now? It felt like finding an old childhood journal—full-body cringe.

The same cringe I felt during my gamer/emo phase. (For the record: no piercings, no dyed hair, and my vampire/werewolf fascination was definitely NOT Twilight-related.)

Here’s the thing: cringe is often just past-you doing the best you could with the tools you had. June-Me really was.

This continuing reflection? That’s Present-Me building on top of the foundation Past-Me laid down.

What’s Changed Since This Post?

Well, for starters, the mastermind/villain writing aesthetic is gone. My writing no longer reads like an edge-lord making edginess their personality.

I’ve shifted toward chronicling experiences, sharing interesting experiments, mulling “what if” scenarios, and yes—still procrastinating on folding my laundry.

I changed my handle from Plans2Action to The Stratagem’s Archive, which felt cooler and better suited to reflecting on life while helping readers explore their own experiences as Fellow Archivists.

And here’s the big difference: I’m not fueled by rage anymore. I’ve felt like an underdog my whole life—no talent, no skill, no charisma, just heart to keep going—but now, I’m not trying to prove anyone wrong. The people I once wanted to impress? I was chasing the wrong audience.

I’m ugly. Bitter. Wretched.

But also hopeful, exhausted through sheer willpower most days, and making my way through life with what I have—at a pace that doesn’t burn me out, doesn’t make me hate myself, and allows me to enjoy the frustrating process along the way.

Things Still Feel Surreal Months Into 2025

I still can’t believe how much The Stratagem’s Archive grew. It started as a way to get thoughts out of my head before they rotted. Now:

120 published articles
15 subscribers
5 newsletters from Letters from the Void Newsletter
2 manifestos Two Manifestos + A Gift (For Fellow Archivists)
1 ebook manifesto The Stratagem’s Manifesto 2.0: A Companion Ebook
6 sticker designs (plus a personal hoodie)
50 business cards because apparently that’s how one feels professional

And all of this is something Past-Me would never believe possible.

It’s not just the blog that’s grown. I’ve grown too:

Renting my own studio
Managing my money and building for my future
Feeling at home being asexual
Navigating friendships with clear boundaries
Making my own map of life instead of blindly following someone else’s blueprint

Younger me would never have imagined this life. And yet, here I am—living life my way, not punishing myself for unconventional choices, and enjoying the messy journey.

What’s Next, Moving Towards 2026?

Ain’t that the question we ask every new year? New Year’s resolutions, envy, self-doubt, the constant “am I doing enough?”

I don’t know what’s next. Maybe I won’t have a corner office. Maybe I won’t run a Spartan race. Maybe I’ll learn Korean just to try something fun. Who knows?

What I do know: I’ll keep working on The Stratagem’s Archive, posting when I can—not chasing numbers like an addict—living life, writing, training, exploring, and seeing what else life offers.

Reflective Questions for Fellow Archivists

Looking back, what part of your past-you makes you cringe but also feel grateful?

Which accomplishments in the last months are invisible but meaningful to you?

If the next 5 months were yours to design, without limits, what would you focus on?

Thank You, Fellow Archivists

Whether you silently follow, like, comment, or share, thank you for spending your time here. Your presence, curiosity, and engagement—however big or small—are what make this archive worthwhile.

Here’s to 2026: one reflection, experiment, and late-night thought at a time.

Check Out The Archives Below:

November 16, 2025

Looking Towards The Future—Learning How to Live Life While Dragging Debt in My Present

Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here

What Am I Supposed to Look Forward to When Life’s Been Sprinting Forever?

I’ve been noticing how things have been shifting for me. Not just with my blog, The Stratagem’s Archive, but in my life as well.

I started this blog from a place of rage, spite, and the feeling that life wasn’t worth living anymore — because it seemed like I had nothing of my own.

My money, time, energy, sleep, hobbies, and interests all felt borrowed, taken, or otherwise out of my control.

Work, personal obligations, appointments, family get-togethers every week… life kept running while I struggled just to catch my breath.

Every day felt as though I was Bound by Compulsion: The Hidden Cost of Rituals We Can’t Escape, and I could feel myself seemingly losing what control I did have left.

I kept asking myself, Is this it? Is this what life’s supposed to feel like — running until there’s nothing left?

If that’s all life had to offer, then holy shit… that really sucks.

Every day was exhausting, infuriating, and lonely. I tried so hard not to give in to my anger and despair — to keep surviving — because, somewhere, I had to draw the line in the sand. I didn’t want to die.

I just wanted the weight of feeling like a failure, like I was perpetually behind, to lift.

And now, four months into building The Stratagem’s Archive, after over 115 posts reflecting, collecting, and articulating thoughts and emotions I had tried to silence until they imploded on me, I find myself… wanting to live.

But here’s the kicker — how do I start actually living?

I Started Learning to Live From a Personal Finance Book—Of All Places!

In a twist I didn’t see coming, the guidance I needed didn’t come from therapy or self-help blogs — it came from a personal finance book: I Will Teach You to Be Rich: Journal.

I’ve shared how I’m tackling my personal debt using the IWT method in my earlier post, Eradicating A Burden: Eliminating Personal Debt to Ascend:.

[Note: I Am NOT AN AFFILIATE—I Found These Books Helpful, and Hope It Helps Someone Else Too.]

I made some financial choices to use my credit cards and take out a few personal loans to help my parents out. But I don’t regret helping them. I regret not having the money on hand to avoid the debts entirely, but here I am.

Anyways, when my Ma told me about the new journal version, I bought two. Its prompts helped me start answering the questions I hadn’t allowed myself to ask: What do I want? How do I want to live my life?

Even though I’m still paying down my debts — my high-APR credit card will be gone in the next two months, and my personal loan in twelve — the journal allowe me to briefly imagine what life could be like once the shackles are gone.

What Does Living Outside of Crippling Debt Look Like?

The beauty of the journal is that it doesn’t give answers — it asks questions.

For example: “What would you do if you came into $100? $1,000?”

My mind immediately wandered to freedom: $100 to treat my family to a nice meal, $1,000 divided between debt repayment, emergency funds, family treats, small indulgences for myself, and a little extra to spare.

Money is a tool.

It allows me to live independently, feed myself, take my parents or grandma out to breakfast, and rest with the quiet knowledge that my choices are securing my present and future. It offers brief glimpses of what life could look like outside of mere survival.

Living Life One Inch at a Time

And that’s the lesson I’m taking from all of this: living doesn’t start with a huge dramatic moment. It starts with creating small acts of breathing room.

I get to say, “I can take care of myself.”

I get to choose, “I get to rest.”

I get to finally accept, “I get to make choices that feel right for me.”

I’m not fully out of the tunnel. I still wake up tired. I still get frustrated at work and dread my Mondays. I still drag pieces of my old, broke, anxious self with me some days.

But now I’m asking different questions:

What if life isn’t supposed to feel like a sprint?
What if I can slow down and still move forward?
What if living starts before the finish line — not just after it?

I don’t have all the answers. I don’t need them all at once. Right now, it’s enough to know that life doesn’t feel like everything’s going to collapse anymore. It feels like possibility — small, stubborn, quiet possibility.

A Gentle Call to Action

If you’ve spent time here — reading, reflecting, pausing with me — thank you. Truly. Thank you for giving a moment of your life to The Stratagem’s Archive.

If this piece resonated, made you think, or disagreed with it, a quiet nod is welcomed here.