Glongpre said:
Sorry if I wasn't clear. I am not saying either of those things. You guys are putting words in my mouth.
People do not socialize less because of individualism. Knowing yourself better does not make you want to talk less, because knowing brings confidence.
There is a loneliness epidemic because of mental issues, not because of individualism.
The point of individualism is so that people find out their passions, and then they can contribute meaningfully to society, because what they do is something they greatly enjoy. It is the idea that someone will be more motivated and more innovative because the subject is something they love to do. The whole, when you love your work, it is no longer considered work thing.
Socializing is a part of human psychology, it will always be a necessity. Even introverts need some social loving.
Anyway, my point was that once you know yourself, you will become more comfortable with yourself (ie. confidence, self esteem), and therefore, you will speak your mind when you want to.
You won't magically turn into an extrovert.
You won't become anxious and depressed from individualism.
Unless I am completely off on what individualism actually is. Which I might be.
Knowing yourself is kind of a double edged sword. Can you know yourself without having gone to the battlefield? Can you know yourself without facing prejudice solely for who you are and inherent qualities of self-construction? Can you really know yourself without spending a month in places like the Niger Delta, a poisoned wasteland that helps arm the means of Western consumption? Can you really know yourself without diving deep into the near-infinite strands of influence that lace thr very patternings of your neuronal connections in the neuroplasticity-abounding world of constant, unrelenting access to corporatised social and consumer media?
Frankly, I posit no one really wants to know themselves, and to do so is nothing short of madness. No one really wants to know what they might do if confronted with constant life or death. The casual abuse that stymies the spirit. The horrors of the world that they help mindlessly inflict through swishing about different windows on your Galaxy smartphone. Nor the infinite rebirth of your very thought patterns where not even your consciousness is sacred, and where 90% of your memories are false anf effortlessly recrafted as whatever is convenient of your brain as you dredge them up (false memory phenomena, for instance) ... not even your life as you know it is real, and subject to convenient alteration because your brain has to cope somehow.
Knowing yourself, particularly the last one above ... picture the insanity of reliving every emotion, pain (bodily and emotionally) or the sum total of your existence the moment you face the dread of retrospection and contemplatimg the evils you are capable of at once? In short, knowing yourself is a curse of incapacitating terror that would tear your mind asunder.
In short we settle for simply trying to live as we feel in the everpresent of our lives. Self and individuality given over to subtle whispers of the brain juggling what is right, and how not to live in constant pain... all without dredging up the horrors, the trauma, of a life spent pretending you're doing anything else.
Individualism is the curse of being forced to confront the horrors of your station. Living simply by the most comfortable variant of our everpresent self is the refutation and circumnavigation around *living out* that constant misery that would paralyze us doing anything.
Hence anxiety when we consider our interactions all too much.
For example. I'm trans. It has caused me the loss of those people others tell me should love me unconditionally. It caused me homelessness. Casual abuse to begin with. Physical violence.
Yet I don't call myself trans because of my past but because of my everpresent self construction that I will be miserable if I can't at least choose the methods and facets of my daily interactions. If I think too much (or indeed felt everything of the past), on what it cost me, I would likely kill myself because the future even remotely resembling it is s heavy burden. I persist for the everpresent. And it pays not to think too deeply on it. On the individual experiences that are mine and mine alone.
Imagine if those thoughts, felt with the immediacy of their pain, pervaded every second of my existence. Just how likely do you think I would even think about going outside? I might even cloister myself in my apartment until I starved. But I cope because it's not 'me' at that moment. I survive because I am dead to myself. Hardship does not breed sympathetic hearts for a reason. It breeds either melancholy or callousness.
It's a balance between comfortable acceptance without true introspective analysis of our individual existence. Not the other way around.
To be an individual is to confront fully all that has brought you to this point. Consider it deeply. Let that abyss of a merging of past evils and sll future potential penetrate your soul and discover that you are free only to suffer your freedom.
... and worse still ... you start to see that same latent horror in the deadest parts of another's eye. Suspended for all to see, but perhaps you are fortunate in that you are not that insane to do so. Paranoia isn't irrational. It's seeing individuals in light of what they can very feasibly do and have possibly done.
Being 'sane' is just learning how to ignore it and being a creature of immediate impulse. Smile snd squee at another's outfit, mindless platitudes how good someone may look, thoughtless preoccupations that keep the dark at bay. It's not staring into your own abyss or the bloody head that sprouts from another's phantasmagorical visage beheld superficially by your own preconceptions... leaning close to peer into those pupils... and asking; "What have you done to be yourself right now...?"
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TL;DR; Being an individual, truly contemplating the self and others, leads to the mental illness you describe. There is a reason philosophy birthed psychology, psychiatry, and neuropsychology ... the same terrors in the metaphysical conundrums of pure, unadulterated madness remains a constant theme of all that we are and confronted by. So we invent meaning in the madndss, create drugs to dullen its blade, and study the very processes of the brain so maybe... just maybe ... we can fucking kill it without reducing the beauty it can, so very occasionally, produce.
My advice? Shut it down before it is truly unleashed as an undying presence of dread that persists for as long as our humanity does. 'Being yourself' is not worth it. Live simply as a beast escaping pain and help others to do the same. Be that beast of careful impulse, and try as much as possible to angle it so it makes yourself and others happy without sacrificing so much your future capabilities to repeat this process for eternity. That is the hard and fast rule I live by and it seems to do the trick.
Do not quantify yourself. Do not assess total self. And never, ever, try to be the sum of yourself. You'll die, crying and utterly mad.
At the very least it will protect all people from even base ideas of self contemplation like this;