Why Do I Always Want to Get Rich Quick

You're not lazy — you just hate "slow." Salary arrives monthly and it feels too slow; investing returns a few percent a year and it feels pointless. A thought keeps turning in your head: is there one way, one move, to solve everything and finally be free? When a friend mentions a project, your heart stirs; when you see "side hustle earns ten thousand a month," you save it. It's not greed — it's the weight of "please let me escape fast," too heavy to carry.

A lot of people share this hunger.

What it looks like

It shows up as impatience with "slow." You're doing the real work, but your mind drifts to another chance to turn things around; saving money makes you restless, and you keep thinking "maybe I'll take a gamble"; even when you know it's unreliable, you can't help investing a little, like buying a lottery ticket to keep yourself alive.

The most typical is "shortcut anxiety": you'd rather spend huge amounts of time hunting for a shortcut than spend the same time doing the work in front of you properly. The search for a path becomes a way to escape.

Where this feeling comes from

Many people have lost faith in "getting rich slowly." All around, the news is "so-and-so made it" and "so-and-so achieved financial freedom"; measured against that, your own progress looks frozen. That gap isn't poverty — it's the panic of "am I falling behind?"

Some people simply can't tolerate the present life. Work is stifling, relationships heavy, daily life dull; money becomes the only outlet — once you have it, all of this can be shaken off. So "turning it around" isn't just a number; it's a total escape from the current situation.

There's another layer: when self-worth is tied to "whether you succeed," slow equals "I'm useless." Every plain month reminds you "still not enough," and that dull pain makes you desperately want to change the script.

How it affects us

The most direct is repeated losses. Traps often wear the clothes of "opportunity"; the more anxious you are, the easier to take the bait. Small losses added up cost more than saving slowly.

More secretly, it's giving up on the present. You keep waiting for "once things are better later," so the current job is half-hearted, relationships cold, and you don't take care of yourself. Betting life on the future empties the now.

It also makes you undervalue the power of "slow." Many solid things compound astonishingly, but you don't give them time. You run off to find a rocket and miss the train that already left the station.

Maybe try this

Admit that "I want to get better fast" is real, but separate it from "how should I walk." Wanting isn't wrong; using wanting as a strategy is.

You can keep a small "trial fund" to satisfy that itch to tinker, but set a hard line so it doesn't touch your principal. Put the rest back honestly on the "slow" track — not to resign yourself, but so anxiety doesn't make your decisions for you.

Slow is also a speed

We're too superstitious about "explosions," yet forget many good things grow. The plain job in your hands, the relationship you're tending, the ability you're slowly building — they're not useless; they're taking root underground. If a turnaround really comes, it's usually the natural result of roots deep enough, not luck that drops from the sky. Give the road under your feet some time; it's not as slow as you think, and don't rush to deny the path you're on.

In the end

Wanting a turnaround means you still believe life can be better — that's not a bad thing in itself. It's just that shortcuts mostly either work or trap, while the road under your feet, though slow, counts with every step.

You can have ambition and you can have patience. Real liberation is usually not one explosion, but no longer treating "now" as a place you must escape.