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Both paths are escapism and end in a cul-de-sac. The more you hide from real issues, the nastier they grow. The alcoholic who swears he's in control drinks himself into ruin; the eternal victim who blames everyone around becomes ever more bitter because no one arrives to save her.
Emotions are overrated. From childhood we chase the "bluebird of happiness," a constant high. Yet emotions are mere indicators - biological feedback. Negative feelings prompt action: burning hurts - pull back; loneliness - seek company. Positive feelings reward correct action. But emotions aren't ultimate truth. Euphoria isn't necessarily good(drug highs prove that) and what upsets us(criticism, rejection) can be hugely useful. Forced positivity and suppression of "bad" feelings remove our navigational beacons - like taping over a flashing warning light on your dashboard. Mandatory cheer blinds us to reality and blocks growth.
Life is rife with unpleasantness, and that's fine. Anything that grants pleasure also brings pain. Dream jobs become nightmares of overtime. Perfect relationships spawn tears and resentment. New cars break down; loved ones drive you mad. The world exacts payment for everything. Thus the real question isn't "how to avoid pain" but "what pain am I willing to endure?" Which suffering suits me, what crap am I ready to swallow to achieve what I want? That answer reveals where genuine reward awaits. Happiness lies in the process, not fleeting highs.
Since the 1990s the world has hyped self-esteem: everyone heard they're unique, wonderful, worthy of all goods. Meant well, ended with a generation convinced of its exceptionality. But high self-regard is worthless without substance. Believing you're a genius is easier than admitting problems. When obsession with one's specialness reigns, self-improvement stops - after all, perfection needs no polish. A dead end.
Ironically, inflated egos are fragile. They mustfeel awesome nonstop, sometimes at others' expense. Any criticism is intolerable; defense mechanisms fire instantly. The flip side is certainty of total worthlessness. Ostensible opposite of narcissism, yet the same fixation on uniqueness - just negative. "I'm ugly/poor/unlucky - unlike the easy lives of others; my misery is uniquely hard." That, too, places the self above others: no one can comprehend mymisfortune. Seeing oneself as the greatest victim is still egoism.
Reality: there are no unique problems. Sorry, you're not a snowflake beyond worldly understanding. Your suffering doesn't break cosmic laws. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt or that wrongs done to you don't matter. It means only: you are not an exception. Billions before and beside you weather similar dramas - bad parents, divorce, illness, poverty. Admitting non-uniqueness doesn't belittle your pain; it merely stops you from expecting the universe to revolve around it. And then you can act.
In the information age, the illusion of uniqueness is epidemic. Newsfeeds parade extreme fortunes or tragedies; greatness or misery screams the loudest. Against that backdrop an average life feels deprived. Fail to save the world or suffer epically - you feel you haven't lived. Nonsense. The vast majority are averagein most things, and that's fine. Extremes are few, just louder, creating the false norm of exceptionality. Ordinary becomes failure, birthing mass despair and frantic bids for attention - selfies, scandals, complaints.
Stuck in the race for specialness, one either enshrines oneself in vanity or clings to victimhood; both lead to stagnation. Real progress begins with a simple grasp: "I'm neither better nor worse than others; the world owes me nothing, nor I it. If I want something - I must roll up my sleeves." Accepting ordinariness lifts the anxiety of constant self-display. You stop flailing and treasure what truly matters - often the simplest things: friendship, work, family, the morning sun or a cup of coffee. Perhaps they're common precisely because they make life genuinely better.
Sometimes to understand yourself, you literally have to cry your eyes out. Self-knowledge is like peeling an onion: layer by layer, risking tears. The first - surface - layer is recognizing your emotions. Many never even learned that. We brush feelings off: "Nah, I'm not hurt," while boiling inside, or we grin when we want to cry. Sooner or later you must look honestly: what exactly do I feel, and when? Which situation angers me, what inspires me, what leaves me hollow? Not easy - each has blind spots, often where childhood forbade certain emotions. But step one is noticing what you really feel and not lying to yourself.
Second layer: ask whyyou feel it. Where does the anger or fear
originate? Maybe you missed a goal; maybe you reached it and it was hollow. Dig to the root and you can change circumstances or perspective. The chronically envious may discover an inferiority complex - valuing themselves solely through comparison. Recognize that and you can revise the metric.
Third layer: uncover your valuesbeneath those feelings. Why do you label an experience success or failure? These criteria we absorb from culture without thought. If they're lousy, life goes crooked. Bad benchmark, and neither money nor love nor trophies save you; you stay unhappy and unsatisfied. Judge yourself only by looks and every wrinkle kills you; measure success by bank balance and you'll chase numbers forever, empty even at the top.
Everything - mood, thoughts, choices - is dictated by values, yet not all values deserve allegiance. Some are downright crap though peddled everywhere. Many believe the main thing is to be rich, famous, always right, deny yourself nothing. Those aims are outside our control, and chasing them breeds chronic anxiety. Poor valuesare external, rooted in others' opinions or transient things(beauty fades, money comes and goes, fame is fickle). Good valuesdepend solely on us and can be lived daily: honesty, creativity at work, caring for loved ones. Good values satisfy even through hardship; dumb values make everything seem wrong.
People often follow senseless rules for years, puzzled why they're miserable. Culture whispers riches = happy, perfect family = all problems gone. Too shallow: temporary comfort, no cure for deeper angst. Change your metrics of success and failure and you literally change your life. Facts are half the story; your stance toward them is the rest. You can't dodge certain problems, but you can assign them price and meaning. You controlthe significance of events by choosing the lens.
Guitarist Dave Mustaine was kicked out of Metallica two years before the band exploded. Brutal blow. He swore revenge, founded Megadeth, sold millions, became a thrash-metal legend. Cool triumph - yet Mustaine admitted he felt a failure because he never surpassed Metallica. That's what a crappy criterion does: a lifetime measuring oneself by others' achievements.
Contrast Pete Best, the Beatles' first drummer, fired just before Beatlemania. Years later Best said he'd never been happier: a wife, kids, modest job, quiet life - zero global fame, yet content. He simply chose
different values: family, peace, normal rhythm. He doesn't compare himself to the Beatles - different ruler, and by it all is well. The moral: circumstances matter less than the metric. Don't ask "why am I not as rich as him?" Ask "by which rule am I comparing?" If the rule is dumb, change it.
Always recall: the meaning of any problem rests on your values.You can't escape fate's blow, but the ripples depend on you. A bad day may be tragedy or lesson - your call. A kick in the ass may embitter one person, galvanize another; both are "right" in their own stories.
If something in your life feels wrong, take a harder look - you may have chosen the very circumstance that makes you miserable. Consciously or not, you chose it. At first that sounds outrageous: who would choosepain? Yet we bear personal responsibility for everything that happens to us, even when outside forces trigger the event. We may not control what hits us, but we always control how we respond.
Picture opening your door one morning to find a basket with a baby inside. You did nothing to deserve it; the faultis not yours. But like it or not, the responsibilityis now yours. You must decide what happens next, and every choice carries consequences. Life drops problems at our feet for which we're blameless - yet we still have to clean them up. The quicker you accept that rule, the faster you grow up.
People often confuse responsibility with blame and therefore fear owning anything. They think taking responsibility is an admission: "I caused all my misery." It isn't. It simply means taking control right now. Maybe others truly wronged you - but responsibility for what comes next lies only with you. While you jab an accusing finger outward, the problem remains and your misery doubles: pain from the event plus pain from helplessness.
Yes, tragedies exist so awful that "personal responsibility" feels obscene - loss of a child, sexual assault, terminal illness. Confronted with real horror, people cry, "Why me?!" But grim truth holds: whatever happened, you must still decide what to do with it - collapse or move, curse fate or seek meaning. Pain is inevitable; the meaningof that pain is up to you.
A whole culture of victimhoodhas sprung up, rewarding grievance. Social media makes it effortless to showcase wounds and collect sympathy. The more outraged and offended you appear, the more likes and attention you harvest. Some get hooked on outrage like on narcotics - righteous fury produces a brief high, then you crave a fresh fix.
Media fans the flames. Instead of spotlighting real issues, it hunts "moderately offensive" scraps and inflates them into scandals. One group screams, another screams about the first group's screaming - round and round while genuine problems starve for airtime. The internet has turned public shaming into mass entertainment; people fling blame rather than pursue solutions.
This circus distracts from genuine victims and true heroism. While some shout about trivia, others are silently suffering. Professional "victims" pull the blanket; "saviors" mop tears to feel noble. Real compassion and personal growth vanish. Worse, audiences grow numb; they struggle to distinguish authentic pain from performative outrage. Constant offense is a dubious thrill - initial euphoria followed by corrosion of the soul. The chronically aggrieved become toxic lumps of resentment, poisoning themselves and those around them.
So choose battles selectively. Don't bite every media bait; the "tragedy" may be hype. Don't rush to vilify views you dislike; odds are the holders aren't monsters but people with different data. And never let grievance - however righteous - become your favorite habit. Stand for principles, yes, but doubt even your convictions; that skepticism signals maturity. Honesty, openness and plain reason outrank revenge or the need to look eternally good.
There is no secret "how." You are already making choices - every minute deciding what to notice and what to ignore. Want change? Change what matters to you. The question isn't "how to stop stressing over nonsense" but "what, to me, is notnonsense?" Ditch the useless goal "be happy"; ask which values you'll embody. Do something - any productive move - and change ignites. Resistance will appear, outer and inner, chiefly your own doubt: "What if I'm doing it wrong?" Paradoxically, that doubt is healthy; it proves you're moving, not stagnating.
Brace yourself: everything you believe - everything - will eventually prove wrong. Growth isn't a leap from wrongto rightbut a shuffle from one mistake to a slightly better mistake. Nobody holds perfect doctrines. Doubt is useful; it drags us forward. Today's convictions age and crumble; new, provisional ideas replace them. We are alwayswrong somewhere. Accept this and you won't fear falling short of some flawless ideal.
Overconfidence is growth's enemy. When someone is utterly sure, he stops looking for better ways. Admit you could be mistaken and doors swing open. Progress begins with "I might be wrong."
Admittedly self-doubt stings. We cling to tidy "stories about ourselves" that grant comfort, however illusory. Easier to believe "My boss is a moron; that's why no promotion" than wonder if the problem is you. Easier to think "I'm too ugly to date" than risk testing reality. Even negative beliefs soothe because they excuse inaction. Terror lies in learning the truth - that maybe you really aren't competent yet. So people huddle in the muddy swamp of familiar misery.
Excuses such as "I'll fail anyway," "They undervalue me," "The world owes me" bring momentary relief but steal decades. Our brains love clutching a once-found meaning. Once we slot an explanation into our worldview, we'd rather toss contradictory facts than revise beliefs. Memory is malleable: we live an event, misremember it days later, embellish it when telling a friend, then believe the embellishment. A year on, we can't separate truth from flourish. Every retelling fattens the myth.
Even honest folks distort a bit because the brain prioritizes efficiency, not objectivity. It filters, invents, rearranges to spare us overload. Each of us inhabits a private sliver of make-believe. Fights erupt not over truth but clashing perceptions. The mind seeks not truth but comfort. Once enamored of a theory - "Everyone exploits me" - it shoehorns every event into that frame. Decide the world is hostile and you'll suspect kindness. Decide you're a loser and any win becomes a fluke. Shift the lens and even old memories reorder themselves.
Hence certainty is impossible. Memory, perception, judgment - all weave tales while we're none the wiser. No idea deserves eternal grip. Question everything, especially your own assumptions.
The mania for being right spawns nasty fallout. The sharper your fear of error, the stronger the lure to cheat just to appear correct. In desperation you might declare the end justifies any means. History's worst deeds were carried out by people convinced of their holy mission. Villains never think they're villains; in their script everyone else is wicked, they alone bring light. Fanatics commit horrors guilt-free thanks to blind certainty.
Conversely, embracing uncertaintygrants huge freedom. If definitive answers may not exist, you relax toward others and yourself. If your truth isn't the only one, judging others loses appeal. You stop gnawing yourself over trivial failures. Unsure whether you're attractive? Then you accept that some will like you, some won't - so what, go talk anyway. Unsure you'll succeed? Fine - try and see. Doubt dissolves self-made walls.
Practical skepticism uses three quick questions. First: "What if I'm wrong?"Imagine even briefly that your solid belief is false. Might your misery stem from the belief itself? Second: "What would it mean if I'm wrong?"Perhaps your stance "People can't be trusted" cost you years of closeness - realizing that hurts, yet the insight unlocks growth. Third: "Would accepting my wrongness create more problems than I have now?"Often surrendering a bad stance eases life; clinging to it hurts more. Estranged from your sister for years? Acknowledging past fault is surely better than lifelong enmity.
Mark Manson's tongue-in-cheek Lawsays: "The more something threatens your identity, the more you will avoid it." We endure misery rather than drop a self-image. You won't tell a friend you need distance because you fancy yourself a "nice, understanding person," and blunt honesty clashes with that self-portrait. You won't write that screenplay because you can't picture yourself as a writer - you're "just an accountant." Until you knock your old self off its pedestal, you remain stuck. Freedom arrives only after assassinating the outdated "me."
Advice to "find yourself" or "believe in yourself" can trap you in a rigid identity loaded with expectations. Proclaim "I'm X!" and you cage yourself. Fear of betraying the "true me" then strangles change. Better to accept that no static "self" exists; you're forever evolving, and thank heaven. Some Buddhists say the ego is an illusion - only a flow of experiences remains. Recognize that and fear of contradicting the yesterday-you evaporates. Thoughts and feelings don't define you; they
come, they go. Kill your self - figuratively - and feel the relief. Old stories crumble, space for new possibilities opens. Failures stop being death sentences; you can always reinvent.
Here's the punchline: 99.9 percent of your troubles aren't unique. Millions share them and survive. Stop imagining natural laws bend for you. Your plane won't crash more likely than another's; your project won't be mocked harder than countless rookie efforts. Drop the special-case ego. The narrower your identity("I'm the best ___"), the more threats loom against it. Take yourself a bit less seriously - breathing becomes easier.
Withdrawal hurts - ditching sweet illusions leaves a hollow, like a junkie quitting habit. Endure it, and liberty follows.
Fear of failure is the swamp that swallows dreams. We're taught from infancy: don't err, don't risk, don't embarrass yourself. Yet no mistakes, no growth. Success stands on hundreds of tiny defeats; greatness rests on stamina for repeated losses. If someone outshines you, trust he's failed more than you have and wrung more lessons from the wreckage. Those who achieve nothing likely never tried, never erred, therefore never learned.
Imagine worst case: all projects flopped, a hundred résumés rejected - you're at rock bottom. With nothing left to lose, you're strangely free: I've lost once; now I'll play my game.Ask: "What do I risk by trying once more?" If the answer is nothing, why hold back?
Most people clutch illusory security. Deviations from routine scare them, even if routine chokes them. They settle for guaranteed mediocrity rather than gamble on vivid life. Shunning failure, they also shun victory. Sealed in a shell, they avoid fiasco - but never discover their capacity. If you won't endure pain for a goal, that goal isn't yours. Real desires test commitment by asking: are you willing to screw up on the way? If not, the desire is borrowed - from culture or ego - not your heart.
When values hinge only on final outcomes - get rich, win the race, collect the diploma - achieving them may leave you hollow: "That's it? Now what?" Choose processvalues instead of end-state values. Making
money is a goal; learning to manage moneyis a process value. Earning a degree ends; becoming a skilled professionalevolves forever. Goals are time-boxed; processes are lifelong exploration. Live for the process and you enjoy each day, not just the finish line.
Pick values you can enact constantly, whatever external conditions. Bake hardship into the design - pain isn't an obstacle but a requisite toll. If it hurts, you're stretching; if something enrages or scares you, great - another chance to test yourself. Successful people don't lack problems; they just picked problems they love. They cheerfully pay the entrance fee - effort, study, discomfort - because the payoff beckons. Reject the pain, and random senseless pain will torture you instead.
A practical rule of thumb: "Do something - anything."Don't wait for mood or perfect circumstances; take a tiny action. Action breeds motivation, not vice versa. People think, "I'll act once inspired." In reality, act first - motivation follows. Sink in doubt, self-pity, procrastination? Get out of your head and move. Clean a drawer, write a sentence, walk a block - whatever. Motion itself is success. Write one page; the page exists - that's progress. Each step spins the flywheel: "Wait, I can do this," and the next step feels natural.
"Do something" rescues you when old values implode. Many face moments when life looks total crap - dreams shattered, future hazy, drive gone. Only cure: start doing things, even without knowing why. Volunteer, learn, meet strangers, create for its own sake - try. New experiences lay fresh foundation; bit by bit life tingles again.
Paradoxically, real freedom arrives through self-limitation. Unlimited choice is meaningless; meaning appears when you narrow options and devote yourself to something concrete. At some point you ditch countless alternatives and stay loyal to one place, one craft, one person. Suddenly life clarifies.
To live meaningfully you must reject. Say no to scatter. Picture a person with zero preferences: everything's "fine," nothing thrills, she aims to please everyone, ends pleasing no one. A void. We define ourselves by what we reject. Choosing X means dismissing non-X.Ask what you'll never accept and you'll glimpse your identity.
If every possibility matters, none matter. Only by closing doors do you truly value the one you walk through. Job-hoppers chasing pay or status rarely become masters. Stay in one domain, prune distractions, and depth emerges. Decades in a craft or city yield insights skimmers never taste. The temptation to sample everything can leave you with nothing.
Comfort junkies who worship constant positivity dread offending or being refused. They chase serenity by saying yes to all. Rejection entails conflict - scary. They become self-centered yet useless, sealed in a comfort bubble, missing genuine connection.
We all crave honesty, but honesty needs the word "no" - and the ears to hear "no." Relationships die in the swamp of polite pretense. A candid no may sting yet allows repair and builds trust; a fake yes preserves smiles while disease spreads.
Take love. Pop culture paints it as pure frenzy - no limits, just ecstatic yes. Often that's addiction, not love; romantic roller coasters resemble cocaine highs - brief euphoria, bleak aftershocks. Unhealthy couples bathe in drama, use each other to escape inner voids, hunger for perpetual thrill. Healthy love looks plainer but sturdier: two people own their issues and help each other by choice, not obligation. Difference between healthy and toxic comes down to(1) ownership of emotionsand(2) acceptance of refusal. Healthy partners maintain boundaries - distinct values and tasks. Each tackles personal problems yet supports the other willingly. They endure conflict, give and receive no, tell hard truths - and bond deeper. Toxic pairs live for each other's drama: victim dumps woes, savior intervenes to feel needed.
Boundaries aren't walls but knowledge of where you end and another begins. Help your partner but don't stomp through their soul. Offer advice; the decision is theirs. Likewise you may decline what doesn't suit you; mature partners won't retaliate. Everyone bears their own emotions. Without boundaries, victimhood and rescuing devour both parties.
Conflict is essential; it stress-tests trust. Couples who can fight honestly, hear each other, and adapt, trust each other most. Eternal "peace at any price" masks buried bombs.
Freedom via commitmentis another paradox. We assume more choice equals more liberty. Psychologists show the opposite: too much choice paralyzes. With a thousand roads, you freeze at the crossroad, afraid to forfeit unseen treasures. Choosing one career, city, partner cuts
countless micro-stresses - you stop fearing missed options, focus energy, and oddly feel freer. Constricted scope amplifies potential: deep immersion, long bonds, devotion to principle yield mastery and significance. Don't chase borrowed dreams; pick your own, however humble, and boldly say no to the rest. Strength hides in that no.
Yes, sooner or later we all die. If no cosmic reason compels action, none forbids it either. Awareness of mortality is both sobering and liberating. Instead of trembling to please everyone and dodge every risk, face the fact: the ending is identical for all. One day you vanish. Why dread supposedly scary things - rejection, ridicule, failure - when the ultimate full stop awaits anyway? The coffin has no pockets.
Encountering death highlights life's worth. Imagine your allotted years spent. The curtain falls. Looking back, what remains? What mark has your whirlwind left on Earth?The question terrifies, so most avoid it, yet it is paramount. Petty stuff falls away when viewed through death's lens. Status, grudges, strangers' opinions shed like husks, while the back-bench items - time with family, a beloved hobby - swell in importance.
Anthropologist Ernest Becker, in The Denial of Death, notes two ideas. First, humans suffer existential anxiety - unique knowledge of inevitable demise weighs on the psyche. Second, to offset that dread we invent the conceptual self - a story aiming to outlive the body. Careers, families, books, children - all efforts to feel significant, to leave a legacy. Any meaning we devise is an attempt not to die completely. Hence pride, fame lust, the urge to enter history - they soothe us.
But if you accept oblivion? Recognize that primordial fear powering many ambitions, and you feel lighter. No longer frantic to shield the ego, you pick values consciously, unhurried by crowds. You realize numerous pursuits - "to be impressive," "to prove everyone wrong" - mean nothing to you. If death is final, why waste life on hollow games?
Death's "sunny side" is clarity. Mark Twain wrote: "The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time." So live fully now. If you aren't, ask why. What silly excuse do you mutter? Picture having no more tomorrows: which dreams remain untouched, which words unsaid? Often our limits are imaginary. Death
should guide decisions, not freeze them. Keep expiry in mind and it's easier to say no to fluff and yes to the vital. Pose stark questions: If I die in a year, what matters? In a week? Tomorrow? The answers slice through fog.
We squandering energy on nonsense because we secretly expect endless tomorrows. Remind yourself that isn't so and trivia dissolves. It's silly to rage at small slights or cling to a hated job when there is no replay. Understand: you're already enoughby dint of existing. Diplomas, trophies, millions mean zilch against the cosmos. The great person isn't the champion or billionaire but the one who, staring at chaos and certain death, still hunts meaning and fights for what he loves. If every morning you decide what deserves attention and what doesn't, you're doing life right. Discovery of a continent or a Nobel isn't required; honest living and caring for what you love despite fear and uncertainty suffice.
Curiously, the sharper you sense darkness(death), the brighter the light(life). Background noise, inner resistance, fear of judgment fade. You argue less, fume less - petty squabbles dim. With little time, each moment grows precious. And then you truly stop giving a fuckabout what is unworthy of your nerves. Finally, you pour yourself into what genuinely matters to you.