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How Do I Not Feel This?

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How Much Is Weed?
Dominic Fike
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10 min · Mike Veson

Before last year, every day I would have this overwhelming feeling that I just wasn't being myself. I couldn't explain it. I knew that the person I was acting like, the person I was every single day, was just not who I identified as me.

I had many objectively good things in my life. And when you have all of these things that look great from the outside, it's hard to justify that feeling within yourself. You can get away with nothing being wrong.

Despite this, it was becoming increasingly clear to me that my life would soon require some major changes. So I did what I think many people would do in my shoes: do everything in my control to not let that happen.

The greatest gift that came out of 2025 was that I was not particularly good at not letting my life fall apart, if you can be good at that. Come March or April, my desperate efforts had all fallen short. Whether it was classes or jobs or friends or plans for my life. Everything I used to give my life value had managed to fall apart and shove itself in my face.

I was broken. My first instinct was to fix everything at once. I started running like an animal. Lifted every day. Played soccer every opportunity I got. Then, as fate would have it, I badly sprained my ankle doing all of this, and my life had to change again.

The only thing I could do was sit in my room. Alone, all day, no obvious way to rush toward filling my life with anything. I was forced to think about what I wanted from my life. I didn't want to. Why would I look at my life just so I could realize that I sucked even more than I thought? The only thing going through my mind was how do I not feel this? And I had no answer.

Every day felt like an accomplishment just to live. To make it to bed each night in hopes that somehow, by some miracle my life would be better the next day.

A year later, in trying to write a philosophy paper on self-knowledge, I've looked back at my own story and started to see exactly why it's so insanely difficult to not just know yourself, but to want to.


Self knowledge is intuitive at first. You feel bad, you know something's wrong. That's what emotions are for.

And if it seems like a one-time thing, you put it off. Believe it or not, avoiding is actually a pretty viable solution more times than not. But at a certain point, when you've done that so much, you have a choice: find another solution, or escalate. Sitting with it is worse than not sitting with it. So you don't. And then you don't again. At a certain point you've built so much on top of not sitting with it that you can't. The cost of collapse gets larger, because more is built on that frail foundation.

We seek the simplest answers to why we felt miserable, because looking deeper would mean accepting a deeper truth we'd rather avoid. Maybe someone said something mean to you that had some truth to it, and you just decided that's a mean person, so it doesn't matter. Maybe that mean person had some truth to what they were saying, but we'll never know because we never gave it the benefit of the doubt.


This goes beyond someone saying something mean. Maybe the person saying something mean is inside of you. Maybe you had a thought to do something bad, something you don't believe you want to do, yet you feel the desire. Maybe you let someone keep believing in a version of you they deserved to know wasn't true. We avoid looking into those actions because we're scared of what we'll find: I'm not who I say I am.

When we avoid things because we worry we're a worse person, we become worse people.

Horrible people are built, not born. At no point in time will someone who is truly horrible think about whether they could be. They don't get the sick feeling. A truly horrible person would never ponder whether they were bad and still carry on the way they do. The sick feeling is the signal that a gap exists, that your identity is not fully aligned with the actions and thoughts you've had. I don't believe you're horrible for those things. I believe you're horrible when you accept that you just are.

The less you look at those hints of misalignment, the closer you get to becoming that person. You become someone who thinks horrible things, and sometimes does them, but you've disconnected your identity from that person so much that you don't even realize what you did: you made yourself into a horrible person.

If you do things because you think they're good, not because you want to, if you say things because you think they're good, not because you feel them, you are telling yourself every single day that this is who you are supposed to be and what you want just isn't that. You've accepted that maybe you'll do these things out of habit and you'll get benefits for that, but you just aren't the kind of person who has that natural desire.

Aristotle talked about this. He understood that tragedy doesn't ask you to confirm you're bad; it just says that you're blind. Oedipus isn't evil; he's operating with incomplete self-knowledge. "Look what happens to people who don't see clearly" is different from "look what happens to bad people." Blindness is something you can build upon; badness is just who you are. We choose every day what we're defined as. Why would you choose to be restricted by who you are today if you don't have to be?


Desires change when you look at them. When I hear someone say people don't change, I believe that argument is really about the fact that people can't change into who other people want them to be. Everybody has the ability to change into more of themselves. Our intuition surfaces things we sense but haven't articulated yet, so we can acknowledge them and develop stronger conclusions. What you want at 22 is different from what you want at 28, so you always have to examine yourself to understand yourself, or you hold yourself back from the growth that would happen after the fact.

We look at things very surface-level. We think we know what's going to happen, so we skip it. You can't approach anything that way, because if you think you know what's going to happen, you don't get to feel the growth that happens from truly experiencing it. The point isn't that your life needs to fall apart. It just means you need to acknowledge the feelings you're having, the things that are bringing you this feeling of sickness or unhappiness. You need to work with that intuition. Otherwise you tell your body it's wrong, and you create an internal battle that never ends well.


We operate in a world where every form of discomfort has an out. We have what I have called, in previous articles, "silencers." You can take drugs, you can go on social media. But we even have things that are less obviously silencers, like hanging out with people all the time or working nonstop. Maybe you think you're cool for hanging out with people, or for building a cool thing. Regardless, what it is doing is preventing the self-knowledge we give ourselves. It gives us constant relief from our intuition, and over time, erodes it entirely. We end up feeling less of the signals that guide us toward ourselves.

That is exactly what I felt one year ago. I did not have the intuition to understand anything about who I was. The only thing I really knew was that this was not me, and I was terrified to look into that. So I made myself busier. Being a strong computer science student. Building products that made it look like I was doing great. Hanging out with people all the time. It was a silencer.

Admitting that you have been living wrong carries a lot of social costs. Vulnerability is punished. If you are committed to an activity or to specific people, the incentive not to examine those things is enormous. We're pushed to manage our narrative, to be biased toward our current situation being right as opposed to the truth. You aren't worse for being wrong. Maybe thinking that's important is the misleading thought entirely.


Catharsis is the moment when you can no longer do that. Your self-deception becomes unmaintainable. The gap between who you believe yourself to be and what's actually happening becomes too wide to ignore.

After the collapse, after the things you built your life around fall apart, after you can no longer maintain whatever self-deception exists, there's a fork. Two paths open.

The first: actually understand what happened. Sit with the pattern. Acknowledge the cost of it, to yourself, to the people around you, to the years you spent living in this uncertainty, and move forward from it because you can. Allow the recognition to form.

The second: find a new version of the same avoidance.

This second path is harder to see because it looks like recovery. You tell the first story you can tell about what the collapse meant. You give it language, give it a narrative, update your self-conception. You emerge feeling like you've reckoned with something.

But the first account someone gives of what their catharsis means is almost never the most accurate one. The self-conception that just collapsed doesn't disappear; it reorganizes. It builds the most comfortable available story: the one that acknowledges what can no longer be avoided while preserving as much of the old picture as possible. What should be a reckoning becomes a rebranding. Think of a company publicly caught mistreating its workers. They fix the holes that made headlines. They issue the statement. They do not go looking for the ones buried deeper. The problem reorganized itself into something easier to defend.

This is the hardest moment to navigate, not because it requires extraordinary honesty, but because what you need most after collapse is relief. And relief is available immediately.


Each unacknowledged thing accumulates. It tends to surface at the worst possible moments: when someone gets close enough to actually see it, when the stakes are high enough that your normal management strategies can't contain it. Your untested doors become walls in someone else's life.


Everything in our life is a signal for us. When we're able to acknowledge the barriers and things that get in the way of us living to the best of our abilities, we don't need to spend every waking moment examining different patterns. All we have to do is live the way we truly believe we want to live, to the best of our abilities. Then we take that information, think about it, and we get more signal about what works for us and what doesn't.

It means listening to the music you like, learning about what makes it so beautiful. It means looking at nature. It means looking at the people we surround ourselves with and seeing the beautiful ways they contribute to our lives. As much as it is acknowledging a lot of the bad parts, it is also examining the good and understanding what we want to be around more, and being in constant pursuit of those things. You will not always get it right. The pursuit itself is the answer to the question.

That really is self-knowledge.

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