I met with [redacted] yesterday and I smashed it. If degrees from Elon is a heuristic for the level of who I'm speaking to, I've hit the 2-3 degree range. But while walking back I was like fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck bitch ad infinitum for like 12 hours afterwards, reliving every moment and thinking how I could have changed something I did.

I know I wasn't scared or anxious before or after the meeting—channeling anxiety into excitement really works—but I think I'm just scared of success. Scared of what might happen if the wins keep happening. Instead I just choose to self-sabotage—the best way to avoid the feeling of success.

If it's not my id, most of the death-drive is driven by my superego, especially after wins, thinking of what I did and whether it was socially right. The ego is too weak to stop the wrath of the superego after wins, preventing the übermensch and retaining the comfort of mediocrity. At least I'm aware of it more now despite heavy internal resistance.