Don’t Turn Your Back on Mental Discomfort

What often stands in the way of our dreams and goals is an innate, biological reaction to anything unknown, anything that might get us killed, hurt, or rejected by others.

In short, the lizard brain.

Not only do we turn our backs on fear, but we also tend to rationalize it in such a way that it makes it seem like nothing happened.

In order to avoid mental pain, we come up with the most bizarre excuses possible.

I don’t have a driver’s license because I don’t like to drive. Truth is, I never believed I could save enough money to buy a car, so I rationalized myself out of mental discomfort.

The truth? I was afraid.

So what can I do about fear? Not in a temporary manner, but rather in a way that changes me from the inside and transforms my life?

It’s simple. I should make it my aim to never turn my back on mental discomfort.

Life is pain, and I should accept it and even learn to appreciate the moments of fear and discomfort as they allow me to better myself.

The game of life is simple: we either venture into the center of our fears, and we grow, or we turn our backs on fear, and we stagnate or worse.

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The Art of The Hustle

Today’s culture is saturated with articles, clever memes, and podcasts that idolize terms like “grind” and “hustle.”

Personally, I believe that assuming the responsibility to work hard for your dreams is one of the key elements of success, but at the same time, it’s equally important that we understand how to work, why we are doing the work, and what price we’re paying for the time and energy we invest in the work we do.

I am writing these words as my girlfriend is getting dressed for us to go out. I woke up 4 hours before her, after only 5 hours of sleep, in order to write my articles, edit them, and schedule them to be posted.

I woke up long before the sun was up in order to reply to my e-mails, check my stats, and figure out the day’s strategy.

I’m all about the grind. Always was. Mental laziness has this strange side-effect on me; it makes me anxious to the point of wanting to jump off a building.

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Instead of Killing Myself, I Wrote a Story

The very surreal feeling of wanting to end your life, especially in the loud chaos of a bustling city — a city with people and lights and billboards and cars chasing one another all day and night, headed for nowhere in particular.

The burning sensation that crawls up and down your skin as you contemplate not having to hold the world on your shoulders anymore.

The chaos, the commotion, all these perfect strangers. Motion, commotion. Emotion.

I wanted to kill myself, but instead, I sat down to write:

I keep a small revolver tucked under my pillow. Every morning, I wake up and grab the little device and turn it on all sides. I inspect it as if its power of destruction could be easily comprehended.

Sometimes I press the barrel to my right temple. My index finger curled around the trigger, I close my eyes and count to ten. Of course, the gun’s never loaded.

Nevertheless, it makes you think.

You see, this is the only power we have. True freedom, as I like to say, comes from the realization that you can kill yourself any time you want.

Sunlight slipping through the heavy curtains, casting red dots on the walls, I can feel my blood boiling inside my body. My heart beats like a fist inside my chest; the metallic coolness of the gun infects my skin.

Loaded or not, it doesn’t matter.

I’m ready to pull the trigger. I want to see God and ask Him a million questions. I press the gun to my chest and take a deep breath. “This is not my life.”

We all die and there’s nothing terrifying or great about it.

“This isn’t a life worth living.”

The gun pressed hard against my chest, right where the heart should be, I pull the trigger. That’s when I can open my eyes. That’s when I can smile. When I can feel alive just because I could’ve and yet I didn’t.

Every morning I wake up and die.

“True freedom, as I like to say, comes from the realization that you can kill yourself any time you want.”

My character’s name was Paul. A painter. An artist. The burden of his own creative genius, the pain of ideas and dreams and hopes turning to rust and stardust.

That’s why I called this story, Dream City. We often forget that nightmares are dreams too.

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The Secret to An Extraordinary Life

A year ago, I packed everything I owned into my girlfriend’s car and left my hometown of Constanta, Romania for a lot of unknown possibilities in the capital of Romania.

Don’t tell her that, but I was kind of scared to death.

You see, just like most other folks, when you’ve been doing something in a certain way all your life, it’s almost impossible to decide on a new way of doing it.

But I had to decide. She had gotten a new job, a much better job, and I couldn’t tell her not to take advantage of such an opportunity because I didn’t feel like stepping outside my comfort zone.

Now, the thing is that opportunities don’t look like an incredibly easy and fast way to achieve something.

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Instantly Improve Your Self-Awareness with This Trick

According to this website, there are 7,869,619,359 people in the world right now. It’s got to be true because it’s on the Internet, right?

Out of all these billions of people, you will only ever interact with a small percentage of them, you will only ever care about those closest to you, physically and emotionally, the ones you understand, the ones who understand you.

But at the same time, and I’m sure you noticed this, there are certain traits or habits that we loathe in others?

We often have strong reactions to certain behaviors, but fail to respond properly to major flaws in character and personality. If you’ve never been the victim of oppression, it won’t elicit the same type of response as, say, being revolted by how reckless with their money our friends are.

These subtle traits that drive you crazy are not random. They get to you because you recognize a bit of yourself in them; they are, in fact, the traits you are most afraid of, the traits you suppress in any way you see fit.

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