Imposter Syndrome, Self-Destruction, and Me: My Perpetual Loop

I’ve built this before.

The websites. The socials. The blog. My little corner of the internet where I tell my story and share my music.

And every time, it starts the same way, full of energy, drive, vision.

Then, slowly, it unravels.

And, it’s happening again.

Since my surgery, I’ve gone quiet. I haven’t posted. I haven’t written. The loop is back. The same one I’ve been trapped in for years.

I build momentum. I grow a small community. I start believing I can finally turn this passion into something meaningful.

And then that voice creeps in.

Who are you to do this?

What could you possibly offer that hasn’t already been said better?

You’re too old for this. No one wants to hear from you.

It’s subtle. It doesn’t yell. It wants to protect me.

And before I even realise it, I’ve stopped again.

The Loop

It starts with fatigue, the grind of work, family, and responsibility.

Then comes comparison, watching creators I admire, doing the thing I love, and making it look easy.

Then the thought hits: I’ve missed my chance.

I tell myself it’s fine. I’ll just step back for a bit. I’ll come back when I feel inspired again.

But that’s the lie.

I don’t come back. Not right away. Not without guilt, or fear, or that ache in my gut that I’m wasting the time I’ve got left.

Knowing Doesn’t Stop It

What makes this loop even harder is that I see it happening.

I’m self-aware enough to recognise the pattern, the rise, the doubt, the silence, and yet I still can’t stop it.

I’ve got all the tools.

I’m good at what I do.

I produce killer music, for myself, and for others.

I can write. I can speak. I can connect.

And yet, I let fear call the shots.

Not because I don’t believe in what I do, but because I’m terrified that I’ll give everything, and it still won’t matter.

That I’ll pour out what’s left of me and it won’t make a dent.

The Weight of Time

Since my bypass surgery, time feels more precious.

I can feel it in my chest, in the scars that still itch, in every heartbeat that reminds me I almost didn’t get more of this.

And yet, even with that clarity, even knowing how close I came, I still find myself here, hesitating.

Scrolling instead of sharing.

Thinking instead of doing.

Letting that same voice pull me back into the dark.

I’ll turn 50 next year.

That number sits on me like a weight.

Because somewhere in the back of my mind, I'm still that kid with all the potential in the world.

And I can’t stand the thought of being the guy who never got it together. Such wasted potential.

The Fear That Drives and Derails Me

It’s the same fear that lights me up and burns me out.

The fear of running out of time pushes me into action, then crushes me with anxiety.

I build momentum, then panic at the thought of keeping it.

It’s madness, knowing exactly what’s happening and still being caught in it.

Watching the same loop play out like a song stuck on repeat.

It is self-destruction dressed up as self-preservation.

When I Finally Create

But every now and then, I break through.

I post. I finish a track. I write an article.

And in that moment, everything else fades.

It feels like I’m doing exactly what I’m meant to be doing.

No numbers, no noise, no second-guessing, just truth.

That feeling doesn’t last forever, but it’s real.

And it’s enough to remind me that the work itself is the reward.

Breaking the Loop (Again)

I don’t have a solution for imposter syndrome.

I don’t think it ever leaves.

But I do think it loses power every time I show up despite of it.

It’s not about confidence anymore, it’s about persistence.

About being willing to create even when my chest tightens, my brain screams who cares, and my heart whispers you do.

That’s the cycle I want to rewrite.

Not by pretending I’ve figured it out, but by staying in the fight.

Because maybe the point isn’t to defeat the doubt.

Maybe it’s just to outlast it.

Final Note

If you’ve ever built something, torn it down, and built it again, you’re not alone.

If you’ve ever been paralysed by your own potential, I see you.

Imposter syndrome isn’t proof that you’re failing, it’s proof that you’re alive.

It’s the noise that shows up when something matters.

So tonight, when the world goes quiet, I’ll open my DAW (digital audio workstation), and I’ll start again.

Because every time I create, I get closer to the truth.

And the truth is, this is exactly what I’m meant to be doing.

🎧 Enjoyed this post?

Stay in the loop with my latest music, creative updates, and behind-the-scenes stories.
👉 Join the Bobby Makes Music Newsletter

Bobby Makes Music