Too altruistic to help yourself but too self-absorbed to ignore it

About a month ago I realized that maybe part of the reason why I get myself into cooked situations is because I don’t prioritize my own feelings and well-being enough. I think my main goal in general is trying to do what’s best for other people rather than what’s best for myself, which by the way I don’t think is true of most people who think a lot about making optimal choices and having accurate models of the world, or most people in the math or rationalist communities. When I cook food for someone else, I try to make sure that they have the nicer-looking parts, and eat the more scrappy parts myself. I often go along with plans that are most convenient for other people, rather than what’s convenient for me. In general, I see myself as sort of a vessel to help other people achieve what they want — someone who will gladly be of assistance — rather than the pilot themself, because truthfully I believe that other people have more cognizant goals anyway.

However, some of my downfalls — including taking too many classes during this past year of college — are in part caused by this: it would actually be better for my mental health and wellbeing to have time to relax and not be overwhelmed, but I have this thought that other people want me to try as hard as I possibly can; I think that they are rooting for me and hoping I’ll succeed, and I don’t want to let them down. So I accept it is my destiny to hurtle down this track not quite sure where I’m going, and to become numb to my feelings, because after all I am only a marble in the machine of what the world expects from me.

I think there are two relatively stable states in terms of your self-image and how you view yourself as part of society. Not quite stable as in enjoyable, but stable as in, things make sense in your model of the world. The first equilibrium is having very low self-confidence and believing that there is very little you actually deserve, and hence not really demanding anything from the world. Being content with not having much and not being much, and maybe not exactly being happy, but feeling normal because your baseline for happiness is simply much lower than ideal. The second equilibrium, which I really hope you are in, is knowing your self-worth well — knowing what you deserve and what you want, and taking action on behalf of yourself when needed.

As I said in the first paragraph, unfortunately I know the first equilibrium too well, because I’ve spent way too long in it in the past. Unfortunate things would happen — I’d get ignored in a conversation, or other people would get opportunities and I wouldn’t, or I’d find myself doing a difficult task alone — and I’d come to terms with it by reasoning that it must’ve been because I’m not smart enough, or not pretty enough, or not outgoing enough. That these were parts of me that were quite steadfast the way they were, and sure I might be able to change them if I put in a ton of effort, but would that effort even be worthwhile? So I fully believed it — whenever my brain was slow I’d think to myself why are you so stupid, and every time I look in the mirror wow, I actually hate you out of pure instinct, without even thinking twice. This mindset made everything that happened to me make sense. I got what I deserved. I wasn’t upset with anyone else — because why would anyone pay attention to me, anyway? — and maybe I was a little upset with myself, but that didn’t really matter because it didn’t really matter how I treated myself anyway. It’s a whirlpool of self-doubt, because all the arrows you follow strengthen its validity and pull you further inward.

The funny thing is that on days when I somehow had more self-confidence, because maybe I got a good grade on something or thought that I looked a little less terrible, I felt a hint of uneasiness. That something wasn’t quite right… like I deserved better somehow… like I deserved to be treated better, but most of all to treat myself better. Like a little rope was nagging at me to get out of the whirlpool, pulling me uphill in the direction of the second equilibrium.

To get from the first equilibrium to the second is no easy feat, because your world model has to do almost a complete 180. You know that you’re making progress when the passing conversations you have with people get longer and more energetic, and you find yourself spontaneously joining more social occasions because there’s less of a feeling of inferiority, and you’re no longer repulsed by yourself. You have to gradually change the way you act, and then update on how you expect to be treated, and then change yourself more if it produced the desired outcome. Your body feels as though some of the pieces don’t fit together perfectly, as if you were going through a growth spurt. And the blossoming sense of self-confidence you have is so fragile, so the moment you have a bad day and don’t succeed at something, you’re in danger of spiraling and slipping down the small stretch that you just climbed up. It’s a slippery slope, because the whirlpool is eager to consume you if you get too close. But if you’re careful and consistent, you might eventually exit the danger zone and glide straight into the second equilibrium.

I’m working on that upward climb right now; the key is consistency, and I’ve been actively trying for the past few months.1 I hope to be able to remain at the second equilibrium for a significant amount of time, instead of slipping back down as I often have in the past. It’s difficult, because being a marble in a machine and simply doing what would make others happy is almost like the low road and the simple solution in my opinion, and I’m pushing myself to go for the high road instead.

But I truly believe the second equilibrium is a much better place to be. Something useful that a friend told me recently which I have really tried to internalize, is that the happier and more confident I am, the more I can help other people and the better of a role I can play in society. So even given my values, there is much reason to take the high road. Being at the first equilibrium means contributing very little to the world, because you can’t really do anything more than half-heartedly when so heartless that you are numb to your own feelings. I think that if I want to be anywhere remotely successful, I need to be in the second equilibrium, sustainably so that I don’t risk slipping. It’s an internal battle that I’ve been fighting and need to prevail in. It really does help to spend time around friends in-person though, because none of them seem to be fighting this internal battle2. If I’m close enough to the second equilibrium that I’m comfortable spending time with people in-person, then maybe I can realize their secrets through osmosis.