A few days ago, I stumbled upon an old article I had written, “Rereading Shen Pangpang,” and felt as if an arrow from the past had struck me. One sentence in particular stood out:
When you make a few friends who appreciate you, do you find yourself suddenly becoming lively at the dinner table, as if you’ve transformed into a different person compared to your previously shy and introverted self?
My conclusion is no—I still speak very little. In any setting with more than three people, I basically just listen and don’t talk. It’s no wonder I haven’t felt genuinely happy lately. I’ve been feeling quite lonely, with few people to connect with.
In the past year, I forced myself to improve my English by avoiding my linguistic comfort zone, and as a result, I hardly spoke Chinese. A year later, my language skills have improved, but not significantly. Most of my progress has come from repetitive solo practice rather than actual conversation.
But I lack a social life. It’s truly lonely when there’s no one to talk to. There’s a language and cultural barrier with Europeans, and a values and philosophy barrier with Chinese. I feel trapped in the middle, ‘yellow on the outside but Western-minded,’ is tough. Moreover, most Europeans, or rather most people, have a hedonistic default setting. For an INTJ like me, who believes in Per aspera ad astra(Through hardships to the stars), it’s hard to find someone I can connect with deeply.
I spent the last two months of summer alone. Although it was lonely, it felt good. Occasionally, I would yearn to be part of a lively crowd, but when I actually found myself in such a setting, I felt bored and silent again. I still prefer a small circle of close friends.
Moving forward, I need to acknowledge my own needs and be more proactive in taking care of my feelings.
But I’m really bad at this. I often pride myself on having high intelligence and refuse to acknowledge the concept of emotional intelligence, thinking it’s something invented to comfort those with low IQs. I used to find the vulgar interpretations of EQ nauseating. If you have a strong sense of self and free will, are hard to manipulate, you get labeled as having low EQ. Oh yes, highly intelligent people have low EQ, rich people are unhappy, and beautiful people can’t marry well. God is fair—when he gives others happiness, he blinds you so you don’t get upset seeing it.
But I can’t deny that EQ, in the sense of emotional management, does exist and is directly linked to individual happiness. I saw a sentence on Twitter that resonated with me: being ~150+ IQ is basically god mode relative to the average person, you are most likely smarter than the average adult by age 10. yet, many people who are ~150+ IQ spend most of their lives feeling deeply misunderstood and often suffer emotionally.
I want to learn systematically how to treat myself kindly and take care of my emotions.
So, I started reading some books on emotional management. After going through a few highly rated ones on Amazon, like Master Your Emotions, I felt they were just so-so, nothing too impressive. Instead, a simple admission of limitations in the book struck me deeply:
You might think that with the knowledge gained from this book, you’ll never feel depressed again. Of course not! You will continue to experience sadness, frustration, and resentment. But each time these emotions arise, you can stay rational and remind yourself that it will all eventually pass.
Master Your Emotions
Another enlightening point is the emotional ladder model. A person’s emotional state doesn’t leap from one extreme to another; there are steps in between. When encountering negative emotions, try transitioning to a slightly more positive negative emotion. For example, when feeling depressed and helpless, why not go fuck the world?
There aren’t really any profound principles or methodologies involved, including high-energy postures, regular exercise, music, and so on. Emotional management is actually more of a practical art, one that involves continuously honing your ability to take better care of yourself.
I plan to go jogging in the park for an hour before sunset each day and learn to appreciate music that requires some taste. I’ll also cook.
Apart from these things that I can do alone, relationships are still the most crucial way to combat isolation. Saying you don’t need friends may sound cool, like some lone wolf, but it’s not honest. I remember my friend Ti mentioning that I don’t pay attention to building my social circle. It’s true that I’m used to being alone, and I haven’t learned this yet. Maybe it doesn’t need too much deliberate effort—just unlock the suppression and constraints on emotions and expression, let the energy flow freely, greet and chat with someone if they come to mind, strike up a conversation when you feel like it.
Leave room for the unknown. During the Mid-Autumn Festival dinner at a friend’s house, I was still lamenting that I didn’t understand the meaning of travel. But after spending a lovely afternoon this Saturday exploring the windmill village with a French girl in Rotterdam, I got it. Life isn’t just about what’s predictable or unchanging. Some experiences simply won’t happen if you stay at home all the time. You need to create opportunities for these unexpected delights. Here’s to those unexpected encounters and surprises in life. À la tienne!
When browsing old articles, I also read the first one, “Prologue.” I’m glad I made that decision back then, so my thoughts wouldn’t scatter with time and become untraceable. For example, seeing the word “philately” immediately reminded me of its true meaning.
What I’m dissatisfied with now is that I write too much proper stuff. Not cursing anymore makes writing less satisfying, and without satisfaction, I have no motivation to write more.
Not good, not good. I’m just doing this for fun. If I can’t write what I want and curse who I want, then what’s the point?
From now on, I plan to jot down more random thoughts, just writing whatever comes to mind, wherever my brain takes me.
No limits on topics or style—just limited skills and patience.