The Stratagem’s Archive

Tag: anxiety

  • One Foot in the Grave and a Christmas Tree in My Face

    2026 is Fast Approaching, Fellow Archivists.

    We Didn’t Get Through the Other Holidays Yet!!!

    My pet peeve went off during my morning shift yesterday and I was already in a bad mood; I was trying to sleep in my car before my shift started and someone was revving their damn car, blasting heavy bass and rap music through their speakers.

    I woke up pissed because I just wanted to rest a little while longer and my alarm was about to go off in 5 minutes.

    I yelled from the inside of my trunk for whoever that was to shut the fuck up, but there was no way anyone could have heard me with how loud, and how shitty the music playing, it was.

    I struggled to sleep in my studio the night before—my mind was playing tricks on me because I kept seeing a shadow by my couch and clean clothes basket I didn’t fold yet from the corner of my eye. My mind was already tense from reading a, well I think it’s a really good story, WebToons called, “44th Period: Survival Class,” by sangC.

    With how far I read and the types of monsters: how they were written, drawn, and trying to figure out what school rule was twisted into a monster, my mind kept reeling back to the parts where each monstrosity was encountered.

    (Trying not to spoil too much, even though I doubt anyone who reads my stuff would read WebToons, but I’m just sharing enough to be sure. Also, I’m not affiliated with this comic or the creator, but I really like how fresh the ideas in this suspenseful, survival, horror story it is. Anyways, back to the reflection).

    My mind kept racing and I kept a light on to keep the dark, and my thoughts from diving too deep into what I thought I was seeing.

    So, What Bothered You This Time, Archivist?

    So, what happened was, after I woke up ready to flip whoever’s car that woke me up on its head, work started. I was one of the people responsible to separate and push the freight to the appropriate destination.

    Today wasn’t as hectic as it usually can be. HOWEVER, the thing that triggered my pet peeve was this: this month is October.

    What happens in October? Halloween. My favorite holiday, even as an adult. Since it’s spooky month, I saw something on the conveyor belt that made me lose my shit more.

    A damn inflatable Christmas tree.

    My Christmas Tree Rant

    I followed the box a few feet and was tapping my fists against the box while ranting in rhythm to my fists tapping the box.
    A CHRISTMAS TREE!!!

    WE HAVEN’T GONE THROUGH THE OTHER HOLIDAYS YET! WE DON’T NEED TO SEE CHRISTMAS YET!!!

    Then, I walked back to my post and forgot that the Christmas tree existed. Already having gave the box a thing or two of my mind was enough and it was back to work.

    That’s Why You Were Losing Your Mind Over?

    Yes, I was losing my mind over this is pretty reasonable. Like, I get people don’t know that people might be sleeping in their cars, so they just blast their bass to the absolute max, and my alarm was gonna go off in five damn minutes when I was rudely waken up.

    But the worse of it was seeing that stupid Christmas tree. Like, “damn, we didn’t even get to Halloween or Thanksgiving yet, and people already want Mariah Carey to thaw early this year?

    Nope. No thanks. Let me have my spooky month without the other holidays, and being reminded of the new year, getting in the way.”

    Why can’t we all just take a breather and appreciate each holiday without having to rush to the next one? You know what else we’re rushing towards if we don’t stop this bullshit? Our graves.

    Yup. We’re already one foot in it, so let’s back peddle real quick, huh? I sure as hell don’t want to listen to, “All I Want for Christmas is You,” on a loop from hell.

    People. Why Are You Running to 2026 Already?

    I can’t get it through my head why people just want to rush through the (major) holidays like a speed run in video games. Is rushing to the next year really going to help you achieve whatever goal you struggled to get this year? Like, damn people, let me enjoy my discounted Halloween themed chocolates before you shove me with you.
    The only time where I would like to speed up is when I’m working.

    I just want to go home to write, reflect, play video games, stare at my tv because I died. Again. Cook me food, or just listen to music because work won’t let us play music again.

    Other than that, seeing how we’re not safe from time’s continuous march forward, I hate how even the holidays are being rushed, like a kid blowing out a birthday cake not theirs. Those frustrate me too, but I digress.

    Can’t we just appreciate the days as they come—no future prepping for things ahead of time, no kicking the month’s holiday off of it’s pedestal before it even got a chance to sit down—and be like, “man, time is moving pretty fast. What have I been doing this whole time?”

    We’re one foot in the grave already — so why are we sprinting to the next holiday, the next year, the next thing?

    Slow down. Smell the pumpkin spice. Listen to the creak of your haunted decorations. Time isn’t going anywhere, but you are.

    Don’t let that slip from your mind or, by the time you know it, you’ll really be fully in your grave.

    Let’s Wrap It Up, Everyone.

    Even in the chaos of blaring music, misplaced holidays, and life racing ahead of us, these moments — small irritations, fleeting frustrations, and midnight reflections — remind us to slow down and notice where we are.

    They’re part of the archive too, a record of our minds, our lives, and the little battles we fight just to keep standing.

    Maybe it’s a reminder that amidst the noise, we can still carve out space to breathe, to reflect, and to exist on our own terms.

    If this piece spoke to you, resonated in some way, or even made you smirk at the absurdity of rushing through life: like, share, or subscribe.

    Take a moment to sit with this reflection — thank you for spending part of your day here in the archives.

    You’re always welcome, Fellow Archivist, and your presence matters in this quiet, unfolding record of life as it is, not just as it’s scheduled to be.

    Other Reflections

    I’m Afraid of the Finality of the Night

    The Stratagem’s Manifesto 2.0: A Companion Ebook

    From Financial Pursuit to Connection: How Plans2Action Became The Stratagem’s Archive

  • Stuck in Traffic, Stuck in My Head: A Reflection on Control and Fear

    Welcome — However You Found Your Way Here

    Stuck Between Control and Chaos

    Traffic is supposed to be boring, right? Just cars, brake lights, and the clock bleeding away. But for me, sitting in traffic isn’t just a commute — it’s a collision of three battles I’m always fighting: control, productivity, and patience.

    Last night was the perfect storm.

    While I sat in traffic, do not do this, I checked my emails in gridlock. When I saw that my package was delivered, the time I saw that it had been dropped off at 19:07. I also knew I was nowhere near home. By the time I pulled into my lot at 19:45, every minute of that drive had been stretched thin with dread:

    • What if someone takes it?
    • What if it’s gone before I even see it?

    It wasn’t just about the package — it was something I made real, something I paid extra on, and had been waiting for. To imagine it stolen while unprotected without a mailbox or a fence was catastrophic.

    The anxiousness of sitting in traffic made me angry, I was pissed, and I tried my best to relax by listening to Indila on repeat. It was a hit and miss that night.

    And while I sat there, boxed in by red lights and cars crawling, another voice crept in: you’re wasting time. You should be making money. You should be productive. Every minute you sit here is failure.

    That poisonous hustle-culture whisper that says you’re not enough if you aren’t making money while sleeping. Or, in this case, sitting in traffic. That sitting in traffic is a sign that I’m a failure because my work isn’t running itself—I’m not making any extra income, except for my retirement and investment accounts.

    To make it worse, the flow was dragged even slower because cop cruisers decided to take up a whole lane, their presence not protecting but clogging. And, because the cops were out, people were slowing down more, not letting anyone cross out of the lanes being occupied by the cruisers, to avoid being pulled over.

    Watching them idle in the middle of the road while hundreds of us squeezed around felt like the perfect metaphor: authority making things harder just because it can, reminding you how little control you really have.

    By the time I pulled into my parking stall and saw my envelope sitting there in front of my door — waiting — I felt the sharp snap of relief. But also the weight of the ride lingered. That time in traffic had been more than cars and congestion: it was my whole internal war in miniature.

    The fear of losing what’s mine.

    The shame of not doing enough.

    The frustration of forces out of my control dragging things out longer than they need to.

    Traffic is supposed to be boring, and it can be most days. But sometimes it acts as a mirror. And what it shows me is rarely passive or quiet.

    A Reflection for You

    I know traffic can mean a hundred different things depending on where you are in life: wasted time, a chance to breathe, a moment to scream in private, or something else entirely.

    So I’m curious — when you’ve been stuck in traffic, what does it bring up for you? Frustration, fear, overthinking, or maybe even peace?

    A Gentle Ask

    If you’ve ever felt this too — the gnawing voices about time, control, and patience — know you’re not alone.

    Like, share, or subscribe if this resonated with you.

    Subscribers get early access to my behind-the-scenes thoughts, experiments, and Letters from the Void Newsletter — plus, as a thank you, Two Manifestos + A Gift (For Fellow Archivists).

    Every return reader, every subscriber, every silent visit helps keep this archive alive.

    So thank you — for seeing yourself here, for being here.

    — Stratagem’s Archive

    Related Posts

    Bound by Compulsion: The Hidden Cost of Rituals We Can’t Escape

    What Good is “History” If There’s No Future?

    I’m Afraid of Wasting My Potential — So I Learn Everything I Can, While I Can.

  • My Life Doesn’t Look Impressive — But It’s Mine (Seedling)

    I Thought I Was Behind — Something Else Was Calling Out to Me.

    I thought I was having a quarter-life crisis at 28.

    It hit me like a booming panic that grew louder each day: this feeling that I wasn’t doing enough, hadn’t achieved enough, wasn’t becoming enough.

    I kept looking at what I thought I was supposed to have by now — by society’s standards, by other people’s timelines, by the noise in my own head.

    But the more I sat with it, the more I realized…

    I wasn’t falling apart.

    I was just going against everything I was taught to measure myself by:

    • I’m not married or have a partner.
    • I don’t have a degree.
    • I work 2 jobs and sleep in the backseat of my car five days a week — by choice, not because I’m homeless, but because parking at my full time job is horrendous, and I can’t afford to waste time or money.
    • I sleep by 9pm or 11pm and wake up at 2am, I drive to my warehouse job, park, learn to code on my phone in the dark, and sleep another hour or two before my shift starts. I try to rest, but my mind runs rampant, my back seizes in pain, and my stomach hurts from running on snacks instead of food.
    • I make $23/hour — decent by some standards — I get paid weekly, and I have a plan to utilize every paycheck. At my full-time job, I contribute 10% of my income to a 401k, with an 8% company match. I’ve grown that account to over $40,000 in three years — without a degree, without help, without shortcuts.
    • My part-time job at a rage room pays $16/hour and every 2 weeks. I save 15% from that paycheck and put it into a rainy day fund, just in case.
    • I’ve been investing $50 a week into my Roth IRA for two years. It’s now over $8,400.
    • I’ve rebuilt my emergency fund to over $1,500 by saving $50 a week into a high-yield savings account.
    • I’m still paying off $15,000 in personal debt and I’ll have this done by June-August of 2026.
    • I can cook. I can clean. I know what my priorities are, and I can take care of myself because I’m worth taking care of deep down, even if I don’t believe it.

    This might not look impressive to most people. Maybe all of what I shared doesn’t look impressive to you either.

    But it’s real. It’s earned. And it’s mine.

    I Chose To Do Something Then Settle Again

    I don’t have all of the answers, I don’t know what I’m doing, but I chose to take action despite my fear and agonizing over whether I’m crazy, too much, or just accept what I’ve been given.

    I walked away from a 10-year friendship that made me feel small, I stopped chasing people that wasn’t aligned with who I am or made me feel unwanted, even after sharing what was on my mind — I’m single, I’m asexual, and I don’t need to fill a void with a warm body and more empty promises.

    Or worse, being kept around so that other people can feel good about themselves, instead of wanting me around because they enjoy my company.

    I’ve traveled with family — to different states and even internationally. I’ve seen Seoul, Sapporo, Otaru, and Hokkaido. I’ve stood in places I used to only dream about. And still, I carry this feeling like I’m falling behind.

    Because the world doesn’t clap for quiet work.

    It doesn’t validate survival.

    It only notices “success” when it fits a clean narrative:

    • If you have a successful multi-million dollar business.
    • If you own a lot of real estate or assets.
    • If you have a lot of connections or opportunities.
    • If you’re already “gotten everything figured out.”

    Things that I don’t have right now, but know that it could be another thing to work towards.

    How I Am During These Moments

    I’m tired most days.

    I’m angry more often than I’d like.

    I don’t eat full meals because there isn’t time.

    I don’t get enough restful or restorative sleep.

    I can be rude, spiteful, and rigid. I don’t feel joy at my full time job, and I’m feeling myself slowly retreating internally at my part time job. I don’t feel much of anything, most days.

    But I’m still here.

    I’m still drafting, writing, and sharing.

    Still building something, even if no one sees it yet.

    The truth is:

    I’m not afraid of getting older.

    I’m afraid of running out of time with nothing to show for my life.

    I’m Afraid of Wasting My Potential — So I Learn Everything I Can, While I Can.

    But when I slow down — like really slow down — and take stock, I can see that I do have something to show:

    1)A life I’m building on my own terms.

    2)Boundaries I fought to set after betrayal and painful erosion of my trust.

    3)I started a blog that holds my thoughts like a personal archive.

    4) My mind that won’t stop learning, even in the dark. 5)My body that kept showing up, even when it’s exhausted.

    6)And I have a sense of self that didn’t come from a partner, a paycheck, or external praise.

    It’s not glamorous.

    It’s not perfect.

    But it’s mine.

    And for now, that’s enough.

    You’ve Reached The End

    If you made it this far, I’d like to say, “thank you.” You stayed until the end and that means a lot to me.

    If you’d like to learn more about what I write about, then you can check out my home and about page below.

    About The Stratagem’s Archive and The Person Behind The Screen:

    The Stratagem’s Archive: You Begin Here:

    For those who’ve been reading silently and resonating with my work, I have a free PDF you can look over just because.

    No spam, no agenda, just sharing something I made, from me to you, as a thank you.

    Thank You + Free Download

    Other than that, I’d like to invite everyone reading a moment of space and quiet reflection:

    • Do you have moments where you feel like you’re not enough?
    • Ever had to fight the thoughts in your head that’s convinced that you’re behind?

    If you feel safe to share here, I’d love to know what’s on your mind in the comments below, or even a hey is cool if you feel up for it.

    Otherwise, I’ll see you all later in the archives. Until next time.

    Do You Ever Feel Like You’re Writing Into A Void?

    Some Days I Don’t Want to Be Here — But Staying is My F#ck You to the System

  • When You Think Your Car Was Stolen (It Wasn’t) and What to Do Next Time Around:

    Deep Breaths Before Freaking Out:

    Welcome, Co-conspirators, to The Stratagem’s Archives, and it is open for perusing. Recently, I, your humble narrator and purveyor of meticulous plans, was taught a lesson – a valuable one – and, thankfully, it ended up being the best case scenario because the worst case would have sent me into a spiral of despair.

    My part-time rage room had pitted me against my ultimate nemesis: parking. In a downtown area where parking is horrendous, customers and employees are allowed to park in another business’s parking garage until spots open up. It’s a 5 minute walk, including the stoplights and the walk up to the garage, a small inconvenience for a mastermind in the making like myself.

    The Moment I Crumbled

    When there was a lull in the chaos at work, I mentioned to my boss and coworker that I was going to retrieve my car, and headed over. As I ascended towards the parking garage, I walked towards the back corner of the lot, and my worst fear unlocked: my car stall was empty.

    My first impulse had always been to contact my parents, my first points of contact for anything, but they weren’t answering my calls. I panicked, then called my boss because I didn’t know what to do or who else to call. Bless his heart because he walked over to where I was to help as I struggled to maintain my composure. My boss, ever the pragmatist, spoke to the security guard on my behalf.

    The security guard, a surprising font of wisdom, mentioned that patrons often misplace their vehicles in this labyrinthine garage. They hadn’t towed anyone in months, he reassured us, despite the downtown area’s reputation for vehicular heists. I managed a shaky nod, agreeing to take “one more look.”

    A Villain’s Humiliation, A Hero’s Resolve

    I swear, in that moment, I’d never wanted to slap myself so hard in my life until that night. While I waited, my amazing Aunty appeared, dispatched by my now-reachable parents who were mobilizing other family members. She sat with me, a calm presence amidst my unraveling. My boss, having confirmed with the security guard that all was well, headed back to his work.

    My aunty, a seasoned veteran of downtown skirmishes, then delivered a surprisingly profound message. She herself had faced the predatory tactics of local towing companies – notorious for being petty thieves who can charge exorbitant fees, vehicle theft, and unhelpful interactions with the police. “I’m glad this happened,” she said, “because now you’ve experienced what this area is really like.” She emphasized the importance of documentation, of relying on evidence rather than my “fallible memory” in a district known for vehicular thefts. Her wisdom resonated deeply.

    And so, with renewed resolve, I took that “one more look.” I walked up one more floor and there it was, my trusty vehicle, precisely where I had left it. I had been diligently searching the second floor, when my car had been patiently waiting for me on the third floor all along. Upon returning to work, and later, when I arrived home, I made sure to take pictures of my car, just as my aunty advised.

    I took her advice to heart, immediately snapping photos of my car when I returned to work and again when I finally got home. I also had to issue a series of apologies to my boss and all the family members I had unnecessarily alarmed. Despite my embarrassment—being 28, I truly felt I should have “known better,” reacting impulsively instead of proactively assessing the situation—everyone reassured me that such mishaps are common. I thanked them all for their invaluable support, vowing to do better next time.

    A New Stratagem: The Deep Breath & Documentation Protocol

    This misadventure, my co-conspirators, taught me a crucial lesson. Even the most cunning among us can be blindsided by our own panicked assumptions. My villainous tendencies, in this instance, led me to prematurely declare defeat and, worse, to neglect the power of proactive measures.

    My commitment to you, and to my own continued reign of… well, whatever it is I’m reigning over, is this: Next time, when the unexpected strikes, I will implement the Deep Breath & Documentation Protocol. Before succumbing to the urge to declare immediate catastrophe, I will take a moment, survey the scene with a clear mind, and double-check my initial assumptions. Furthermore, I will ensure I have a visual record, a digital alibi, to counter any potential memory lapses or external threats. I will not repeat this mistake, and I hope those who read my blog can learn from my temporary lapse in judgment.

    For those of you, my equally neurotic co-conspirators, who might also find yourselves teetering on the edge of a freak-out, remember my ignominious tale. Before you unleash your inner panic monster, take a deep breath. Seriously. Just one. Then, maybe, another. And if circumstances allow, snap a quick photo. Often, the solution is much simpler (and far less catastrophic) than your racing mind leads you to believe, and a little evidence can save you a lot of grief.

    What minor misstep has sent your carefully constructed plans into a temporary tailspin? Let me know in the comments below and I will see you all again when the archives open!

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