A brutally funny guide to how we sabotage our own success with style, chaos, and Olympic-level procrastination. Read if you dare.
Self Guide to Sabotage: The Manual They Should’ve Given Us
If you’re reading this, congratulations — you’ve survived adulthood long enough to realize the biggest villain in your life wasn’t your boss, your deadlines, your family chaos, or that one loud neighbour who believes 6:30 am is a great time to drill into walls.
No.
The villain…
Was you.
And don’t worry — same here.
I’ve sabotaged myself so many times I should honestly start charging tuition fees for others.
So let’s get straight into it.
Welcome to the Self Guide to Sabotage — the manual every adult should’ve received instead of geometry and cursive writing.
Every superhero has an origin story.
But every saboteur?
We have… childhood.
Picture this:
Exam tomorrow.
Books open.
Pencils sharpened.
Brain ready.
Suddenly…
You decide your cupboard needs rearranging right now.
Not tomorrow.
Not next week.
Right this second or civilisation collapses.
That was the moment you met your inner saboteur.
A tiny goblin who whispers:
“Bro… avoid the important thing. Find irrelevant tasks. We thrive on chaos.”
Mine grew up with me, got a gym membership, and now lives permanently in my head like a tenant refusing eviction.
Now you’d think adulthood would fix things.
HAHAHAHA.
Cute thought.
No, adulthood just levels up the sabotage.
We “strategically postpone.”**
(Also known as procrastination with PR branding.)
We “need mental space.”**
(Translation: We’re scrolling reels for 2 hours.)
We “dream big.”**
(Or delusionally. Potato-potahto.)
We “function on adrenaline.”**
(And 3.4 hours of sleep.)
Our sabotage is sophisticated now.
High-quality.
Imported.
Handcrafted.
Ethically sourced from generations of chaos.
“I’ll start Monday.”
Every. Single. Time.
The gym?
Monday.
New diet?
Monday.
Life improvement?
Monday.
Meanwhile Monday is sitting in a corner like:
“Why am I carrying the emotional load of 8 billion people?”
You’re not lazy.
Oh no.
You’re a procrastination artist.
You don’t delay things — you marinate them.
Slow-cooked, perfectly seasoned, 48-hour marination.
You compare your normal day to a 19-year-old influencer with a six-pack and a start-up valued at $5 million.
You?
You found matching socks.
That’s today’s achievement.
Why run on a treadmill when you can overthink one message for 3 hours straight?
Overthinking burns calories AND self-esteem.
Two-in-one bundle.
Rest?
We don’t do that.
We go full speed until we crash like a Windows XP system.
Then we call it “a tough phase.”
You’re not busy.
You’re rearranging your desktop icons and replying to emails nobody asked you to reply to.
But it FEELS productive.
Peak sabotage energy.
Let me tell you about a day I sabotaged myself so hard it could’ve been submitted as an Indian entry to the Oscars.
Massive presentation.
Career moment.
Glory on the horizon.
So naturally…
I spent the night before reorganizing my WhatsApp groups, deleting apps I never use, and reading old forwarded jokes like they were research papers.
At 3:47 AM I discovered:
4 identical screenshots,
3 playlists titled “New Life Start,”
1 folder named “Important Docs” containing… nothing.
And the presentation?
Hahahaha.
Cute. Untouched. Mint condition.
This wasn’t sabotage.
This was ART.
Here’s the plot twist:
We’re not stupid.
We’re scared.
Self-sabotage is just fear wearing fancy clothes.
Fear of failing.
Fear of succeeding.
Fear of expectations.
Fear of judgment.
Fear of actually doing well and then being stuck doing well forever.
So instead of trying and risking heartbreak…
We don’t try and call it “timing.”
You don’t need a personality makeover.
You don’t need a 5AM routine.
You don’t need a Himalayan retreat.
You need one tiny rebellion a day.
One small “No.”
One small “Let me finish this.”
One small step your inner saboteur hates.
The goal isn’t perfection.
It’s disruption.
You’re not rebuilding.
You’re reclaiming.
If any of this felt personal…
Good.
It means your inner saboteur is sweating.
Panicking.
Pacing back and forth.
Muttering,
“Bruh… we’re losing control.”
Let it.
It’s time you take the wheel.
One tiny action at a time.
One subtle rebellion at a time.
One microscopic step toward the version of you that isn’t constantly shooting themselves in the foot.
You don’t need a new life.
Just fewer self-inflicted plot twists.
Your inner saboteur has run the show long enough.
Time to fire him.
No notice period.
Categories: : Career Counselling, College Selector, Elevate _ Professional, IMAGOFY, Public Speaking, Soft Skills