These days my running topic is the over-restrained life.
A life of self-restraint is healthy. Moderate immersion produces good results, but the moment you sink too deep, it becomes hard to climb out. Cigarettes and alcohol, of course — and work, too.
I can't drink. I can't play games either. Honestly, calling it "restraint" is a bit embarrassing. I'm not doing it because I can't; it's not that I can but choose to restrain. Still, I did quit smoking. Actually, you can't quit smoking — people usually say you "pause". That pause is now in its fifth year. I smoked for about 13 years, so I haven't even reached the halfway mark yet.
A restrained life seems to wear you out. In a way, isn't it a kind of surveillance?
You should rest but you can't rest. You create some kind of work to do. And while creating it, you look for meaning in it. Doing that meaning-assigned work, you end up working when you should be resting. And when the result doesn't meet expectations, you get worn out again. You deliberately made up your mind to set aside some rest time, but you still end up exhausted. And when you're thrown back into the "main?" work time, your breath catches before you've even begun.
Usually, this type of person should do work they love. Because the moment work and hobby separate, unhappiness begins. You can't stop working, and you fill your entire life with time spent trying to be satisfied with the results of that work.
Burnout — it all burned down, but a moment comes when you don't even know what burned. To avoid repeating that mistake you have to stay aware, and even that awareness becomes a burden.
Oh..
The daily life of Sampal-gwangttaeng — maybe this is a time when I have to work relentlessly to not restrain myself.
