Ever since college, and stumbling into a lucrative sales job that asks absolutely nothing of my intellectual capacity, my brain has become mush, absolute mush. When even in years past - I’m now 28 - I would have made the token effort after dinner to open a book or write a passage in my journal, now I fall into a dull catatonia, mutely watching hour after hour of drivel on YouTube while absentmindedly swiping this way and that on a carousel of Bumble, Tinder and Hinge.
If it sounds pathetic, that’s because it is. So then why can’t I stop it?
Because every external marker is saying ‘you’re winning the game, keep doing what you’re doing.’ Making a lot of money working 25 hours a week, fully remotely from Rio de Janeiro, Buenos Aires and Valencia, sleeping with more women than is good for me. Writing it out sounds like a Reddit neckbeard’s fantasy, yet all the while I’m deeply unhappy with it.
Unhappy because I feel latent within me something potent but inaccessible, blocked by this 1000 pound gorilla that swats away any attempt to live beyond the sedating minimums of eating, sleeping and fucking.
All this is to say, how do you confront a personal acceptance of what feels like mediocrity? How do you retrain your brain to say ‘although you think you’re winning, you need to reset the rules of the game’?
Apologies for what may appear to come across as a blatant humble-brag - there's really no other way to make this post.
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Building mental resilience
Ever since college, and stumbling into a lucrative sales job that asks absolutely nothing of my intellectual capacity, my brain has become mush, absolute mush. When even in years past - I’m now 28 - I would have made the token effort after dinner to open a book or write a passage in my journal, now I fall into a dull catatonia, mutely watching hour after hour of drivel on YouTube while absentmindedly swiping this way and that on a carousel of Bumble, Tinder and Hinge.
If it sounds pathetic, that’s because it is. So then why can’t I stop it?
Because every external marker is saying ‘you’re winning the game, keep doing what you’re doing.’ Making a lot of money working 25 hours a week, fully remotely from Rio de Janeiro, Buenos Aires and Valencia, sleeping with more women than is good for me. Writing it out sounds like a Reddit neckbeard’s fantasy, yet all the while I’m deeply unhappy with it.
Unhappy because I feel latent within me something potent but inaccessible, blocked by this 1000 pound gorilla that swats away any attempt to live beyond the sedating minimums of eating, sleeping and fucking.
All this is to say, how do you confront a personal acceptance of what feels like mediocrity? How do you retrain your brain to say ‘although you think you’re winning, you need to reset the rules of the game’?
Apologies for what may appear to come across as a blatant humble-brag - there's really no other way to make this post.
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