Firat Akbas

Tag: life

  • I Still Use ChatGPT Instead of Writing Everything Myself

    by Firat Akbas

    Let me say this upfront:

    No — I didn’t write every single word of this alone.
    Yes — I used ChatGPT to help me.

    And no, I’m not ashamed of that.

    You shouldn’t be, either.

    Why I Use AI

    Because – maybe like you

    • I overthink every sentence
    • I want to say everything, all at once
    • I get emotionally tangled in what I’m writing
    • I’m afraid I won’t sound as “powerful” as I feel inside

    And when I try to write alone, here’s what often comes out:

    A Real Text I talked into ChatGPT (Before Any Help)

    “I don’t want to take this idea. I kind of want to write about the fact that… …the more we try to become a version of ourselves… …that’s better, slimmer, richer, fitter, more good-looking, whatever it is… …we tend to forget the process of having fun. For me, too. The hard truth is, after work, I’m staying at home, scrolling… …getting the new idea, getting a new insight… …trying to read books for the next hint that solves our problems. But then I came to the conclusion that I forgot how to be happy. I always think about my job that I don’t want to do anymore. I’m making less than I deserve, quote-unquote. Yes. And I want to write about that.”

    That’s me. Word for word.

    No edits.
    No punctuation fixes.
    No structure.
    Just my brain, spilling raw truth.

    What ChatGPT Helped Me See

    I wasn’t lost.
    I was feeling deeply. But the text had too many pauses, too much build-up, and not enough clarity.

    Together, we shaped it into this:

    “I’ve been grinding to become the best version of myself — fitter, smarter, more disciplined. But in the process, I forgot how to be happy.

    After work, I just sit and scroll. Searching for the next book, the next insight, the next solution. Always chasing a fix.

    But lately I’ve realized: I’m not broken. I’m just disconnected from joy.

    I miss laughing. Resting. Just being human.”

    Same soul. Less noise.

    Why I Share This

    Because you’re like me.

    • You feel a lot, but it comes out tangled.
    • Your words don’t land like your thoughts do.
    • You write with heart — but get lost in your own mind.

    You’re just in the middle of becoming fluent in your truth.
    Yes, you should write more, think more, work more.

    But what if you don’t even have energy for yourself at the moment?

    Especially if you are busy workwise, with family, other responsibilities.

    If life feels empty and heavy?

    Why I Still Use ChatGPT (For Now)

    Because it helps me:

    • Reflect without spiraling
    • Stay in motion when I want to quit
    • Say what I mean — without drowning in it
    • Keep writing, even on days I feel like a mess

    This isn’t cheating for me.
    It’s a bridge between the man I am — and the man I’m building.

    And I won’t apologize for using every tool I can to speak the truth.


    I stopped beating myself down with thoughts like:

    • I never really wrote, of course I’m bad
    • No one will take me seriously
    • I’m making a clown out of myself instead of “grinding hard”

    Think about it

    You don’t need to be a perfect writer.
    You just need to be an honest one.

    Even if that honesty sounds like:

    “Hey… I needed help writing this.”

    If you’re someone with a voice that gets tangled in your throat —
    I feel that.

    You are not weak for it.
    You are trying to build – something that lasts.

    Something that’s …

    you.

    Final Words


    I hope this post helps you exhale a bit more.
    Be kind to yourself.

    DM me what you think on X.
    I’ll read it – whether you’re struggling or simply feel seen by this.

    Thanks for reading.
    I’ll see you in the next one.


    I love you. You matter.
    — Firat Akbas

  • Sitting with Nietzsche in the Sun

    A Journal from June 17, 2025
    A Tiny Library, a Good Book Deal, and a Feeling I Couldn’t Explain

    A Stop at the Little Library

    On my way to a small lake, I walked past the little library in our city. It’s small, unassuming — one of those places most people ignore. But today, they had a sale: one euro per book. They were organized in small boxes outside of the store.

    Two of those interested me a lot, so I picked them up:

    • One on something called Reconnective Therapy, about healing through reconnecting with the energetic body
    • Becoming Older Like a Gentleman – Between Engagement and Idleness

    The Thin Man Behind the Glass

    I stepped in and greeted the man behind the glass. He was thin, well-dressed, with black glasses and a kind of calmness that made me stop for a second. Not just calm — intelligent. The kind of intelligent that doesn’t have to speak much.

    It was fascinating how he radiated knowledge, almost like he held ancient secrets.
    There was something mystical about him. Not in a spiritual woo-woo way, but like he knew things the rest of us forgot. I don’t know — maybe it was the ancient-looking books behind the glass.

    I asked him about Nietzsche and Machiavelli. He didn’t say much, just guided me silently to the back, to the Philosophy section. No Machiavelli, but lots of Freud. Some Nietzsche. A bit of Seneca.

    The Books I Chose

    I picked up two:

    • Nietzsche – Menschliches, Allzumenschliches, a book for free spirits, printed in 1994 — the year I was born.
    • Seneca – Von der Ruhe der Seele, printed in 1991.

    They cost five euros each. I was asking him if he was ready to make a deal.
    He said, “We are doing that here all the time — 10 for all 4?”

    He was amazing and also offered me to take a look into their external warehouse.

    Reading Nietzsche with the Sun on My Face

    I sat down outside with a clear view of the water, in the sun, with this amazing view. Reading Nietzsche in German, trying to focus. It’s difficult. Complex language. Old vocabulary. But I’m interested.

    I found him through the psychologist everyone in the lonely self-improvement corner of the internet knows — Jordan Peterson.

    Peterson said something like:

    Every young man should read Nietzsche.
    Learn something hard.
    Sharpen your thinking.
    Learn to speak.

    A well-articulated man isn’t just dangerous — he’s capable. And becoming capable, in Peterson’s words, is the antidote to bitterness and misery.

    I don’t remember exact quotes. But I remember the feeling.
    Do what’s hard. Make yourself sharper. Aim for the highest possible good.
    That hit me.

    So I gave it a shot. It’s hard. And after about an hour, I didn’t feel smart. Actually, I felt more like a failure. I didn’t understand half of what he was trying to say.

    But I kept reading.

    What I did catch was how Nietzsche wrote about being a Freigeist — a free spirit, someone who doesn’t just follow the crowd. He questioned whether God existed. He explained how science and philosophy are always clashing. And he asked:
    How can you know truth if you’re stuck observing everything through a human head?
    And cutting it off won’t magically show you an “afterlife” or a “dreamworld”.

    For a beginner like me in his world, I understood why he was the “weird thinker in the mainstream” back in his time.

    I probably misunderstood some of it. But still — something about it made me pause.

    Then Came Seneca

    Seneca was easier. Maybe not because the writing was simpler, but because my brain was already warmed up. Nothing stuck from it yet.

    But I read for another hour. I stayed in the sun, flipping pages, taking sips of water, getting sunburned on my face, arms, and the insides of my legs.

    I kinda look like someone attacked me with an electric iron, but it helped my heavy thoughts.
    It was very freeing.

    And then I went home.
    I had a piece of steak and an egg. Drank more water. Sat with it all.

    Something Shifted

    It wasn’t about the books, really. It was about the moment.

    I don’t know why, but this line popped into my head:
    “Hurry up, Firat. Your people are waiting for you.”

    Sounds crazy, but I swear I heard this in a dream, looking up to “future Firat” while I was falling asleep to one of Chris Williamson’s podcasts a while ago.
    Like a version of me that’s already walked the path, already suffered through the fog, already earned clarity — and now he’s standing on the other side, sending me a message back through time.

    That’s what it felt like.

    A Thought to Leave You With

    I don’t have the answers. But I do know this:
    Even something small — like reading a hard book on a sunny day, especially when you feel lost — can shift something inside of you.

    And for the first time in a long while, loneliness didn’t feel like punishment.
    It didn’t feel like prison or hell.

    Today, it felt like release.
    Like order, gently arriving in the middle of my chaos.

    I’m not there yet. But I think I’m closer.
    And if you’re feeling like I was this morning, maybe try reading something that feels just a bit too hard.
    Sit in the sun.
    And listen for the version of you that’s already waiting up ahead.

    They might be trying to tell you something, too.

    I love you. You matter.
    Firat Akbas

  • Overthinking Isn’t the Problem.

    It’s Avoiding What You Already Know.

    Let’s be real.

    You’re not “just thinking a lot.”
    You’re stuck. Looping.
    Scrolling, spiraling, second-guessing yourself over and over.

    And then the guilt kicks in.
    “Why can’t I just do the thing already?”

    I’ve been there too. And still am sometimes.
    I could reduce that to a minimum and still end up scrolling. It’s how it works if you don’t have “better things to do”.

    Eventually, I realized something hard but freeing:
    Overthinking isn’t the issue.
    It’s knowing what to do — and avoiding it anyway.

    What Actually Helped Me?

    I stopped fighting my thoughts and started removing the noise.

    I deleted Instagram.
    Then TikTok.
    Then Snapchat.
    All of it — gone.

    Not because I’m super disciplined.
    But because I realized something dangerous was happening:

    Social media wasn’t helping.

    It was hijacking my attention.

    When you take a step back, it’s insane.
    You’re sitting there on the couch like a shrimp, hunched over…
    …staring into a glowing alien rectangle that feeds your brain nonstop garbage:

    • “Give us your money”
    • “This sexy AI woman wants your attention”
    • “You NEED these protein pancakes”
    • “Here’s a game you didn’t ask for (with 97% ads)”
    • “Buy our course about socks”

    Most of the things you want in life, right?
    Quick, easy and rewarding.

    All of this while your real life sits in the background, ignored.

    Meanwhile, your brain can’t focus.
    You can’t hear yourself.
    You keep spiraling because you’ve got no clarity — only stimulation.

    Overthinking Thrives in Chaos

    If you’re the deep-feeling type, an introvert, someone who grew up being hyper-aware…
    then overstimulation turns your mind into a prison.

    Ask me, I feel hurt when someone ignored my “Hey, how you doin?”
    We are not different in this.

    And social media is a never-ending stream of dopamine and confusion.

    You already feel too much.
    You already think too far.
    Now you’re being fed more things to feel and think about nonstop.

    At some point, it’s not about laziness — it’s about your nervous system being fried.

    You’re Not Broken.

    You Might Just Be Wired Differently.

    Maybe you’re the analytical one.
    Maybe you’ve got neurodivergent traits.
    Maybe you’re the “deep-feeler” or “slow starter” type.

    Or maybe you learned “helplessness” early in life.
    And now, when faced with action, you freeze.

    Whatever it is — you’re not wrong for being how you are.
    But you do need a new strategy to get out of the overthinking cycle.

    Here’s What Actually Works

    These are the only things that have helped me stop the spiral,
    no course, no coaching — easy things you have control over:

    1. Kill the noise.

    Delete the apps.
    Put the phone out of reach.
    Block the toxic stuff.
    Reclaim your mind from the algorithm.

    2. Act on what you already know.

    That girl you’re texting who keeps it surface-level?
    Your girl is your peace — not your never-ending, unsolvable puzzle that eats your brain and chips away at your confidence.
    You know the answer.

    That dream you’ve been postponing?

    • Writer — writes
    • Dancer — dances
    • Cook — cooks
      …

    You know what step one is.

    That anxiety you feel?
    It’s probably because you’re ignoring your gut — not because you need more answers.
    Because watching others do the thing you want to do feels like accomplishment to your brain.
    But it’s not. You only scrolled.

    Start small.
    Do the boring thing.
    But do it now, not “when you feel ready.”

    3. Accept your wiring.

    You’re not a robot.
    You’re not lazy.
    You’re not broken.

    You’re thoughtful. Careful. Deep.
    That’s a strength — but only if you give it structure.

    Discipline.
    Boundaries.
    Purpose.

    Trust your gut.
    If you think your writing is shitty, you don’t care — you improve.
    Use tools, get help, post anyway.
    And way, way less noise.

    If You’re Stuck in Your Head — I Get It.

    You’re not failing.
    You’re not weak.
    You’re just overloaded.

    The world tells you to “man up” and “do more.”
    But sometimes, real courage is shutting everything down and doing less — so you can hear yourself again.

    You don’t need another quote, hack, or strategy.
    You just need to act on what you already know deep down.

    So today:

    Turn down the volume.
    Take the first step.
    And remember — you’re not alone in this.

    • Someone needs your voice out of your struggles and how you crawled out of this abyss.
    • Someone needs to taste your cooking.
    • Someone needs to see your dance moves.

    Let’s Move Forward.

    I love you. You are doing great.
    — Firat

  • The Heartbreak That Leaves You Confused, Not Just Sad

    When You Can’t Move On Because Nothing Was Ever Clear

    Some breakups hurt because love ends.
    Others hurt because it never really began the way you thought it did.

    You Weren’t Lazy. You Were Just Lost.

    When she left, I told myself:

    “I should’ve worked harder.”
    “I should’ve been more focused.”
    “I’m lazy. That’s the problem.”

    No.
    I wasn’t lazy.
    I was lost.

    I stayed lost because I kept chasing someone who gave me just enough attention to keep me confused.

    The replies were nice.
    But empty.
    The texts had emojis.
    But no real effort.

    She said, “I care.”
    But her actions whispered, “I’m gone.”

    She Didn’t Break You — You Broke Yourself By Staying Too Long

    I’m not blaming her.
    But let’s be honest:

    Some women know exactly what they’re doing when they keep you just close enough to stay on the hook.

    And some men — me included — ignore their gut because we hope to be chosen.

    I texted too much.
    Explained myself too much.
    Tried to be the “good guy” for someone who had already mentally checked out.

    That’s not love.
    That’s self-abandonment.

    The Gaslighting You Never Called Out

    “Don’t be so dramatic.”
    “You’re overthinking.”
    “I just need time.”

    You heard those words.

    But you weren’t crazy.
    You weren’t needy.

    You were reacting to inconsistency — and she blamed you for it.

    That’s gaslighting.

    It doesn’t have to be loud or evil to be damaging.
    It can be subtle, passive — the kind that makes you question your own worth.

    And when it ends — you’re not just heartbroken.
    You’re confused, ashamed, and unrecognizable to yourself.

    The Shame of Ignoring the Signs

    You knew something was off.

    You told yourself:

    “Maybe it’s me.”
    “Maybe I’m imagining things.”
    “Maybe if I try harder…”

    But those were breadcrumbs.

    Small signs you ignored because hope wanted to win.

    The shame isn’t in being fooled.
    It’s in staying too long after the doubt starts whispering.

    The Project That Pulled Me Back to Life

    There was always something I wanted to do.

    Build something.
    Create.
    Write.
    Fix my health.

    But heartbreak fogs your mind.
    It makes your purpose shrink.

    Until one day, I just started.
    Not because I felt motivated.
    Because I was tired of feeling like a shell of a man.

    Start the thing you said you’d do “one day.”
    Not for money. Not for revenge.
    But to remind yourself: You exist outside of her.

    You Need a Mission — And You Need Real Friends

    You need a mission.
    And you need friends who don’t just hand you a beer and say “move on, bro.”

    You need friends who challenge you, sit in silence with you, call you out, and remind you who the hell you are.

    Stop isolating.
    Stop stalking her social media.
    Start building what you were too emotionally drained to build when you were chasing her.

    She might be someone else’s problem now.
    But you?
    You’re your own responsibility again.

    What Helped Me Heal

    Here’s what really worked:

    • Unfollow and block — not for drama, but for your own peace.
    • Tell two close friends everything — no filters.
    • Cold showers and gym — every damn day if you can. If not, try but do it.
    • Start a passion project, even if it’s messy. Blog, business, selling lemonade? TRY.
    • Accept the part I played in staying too long.
    • Journal every time I want to text her, if you don’t journal — speak in front of the mirror.
    • Forgive her — quietly, without needing her to hear it, but speak or write it.
    • Forgive myself — loudly, every day, in front of the mirror.

    You Were Never Too Much — You Were Just in the Wrong Place

    You’re not broken.
    You’re not “too emotional.”

    You loved someone who wasn’t equipped to meet you at your depth.

    That’s not weakness.
    That’s misalignment.

    The kindest thing you can do now is walk away with dignity — and build a life no one can ever take from you again.

    Not dreamy but realistic to your situation. No business contacts? No followers? No nothing? Doesn’t matter. You have capacity now to TRY to create it at least.

    And “building a business or purpose” isn’t the golden key that solves everything. It’s more about finding something where you are in control again and where you feel seen and validated. Create something that comes from you, no matter if you cook, sing, train, or write.

    So Pick Up Your Pieces

    Start that thing.
    Text your real friends.
    Train your body.
    Fix your routine.
    Cry if you have to — then keep going.

    You’re not healing for her.
    You’re healing to stop betraying yourself.

    You are not less masculine or less of a man if you work with your emotions. Your future wife wants and needs that from you anyway.

    But you need it the most right now.

    Head up king.

    I love you and you are doing great.
    — Firat Akbas

  • When She Doesn’t Text Back and You Still Can’t Let Go

    You deleted the pictures.

    Blocked her everywhere.
    Told yourself you’re done.

    Because that’s what strong men do, right?

    “Don’t be soft about it.”
    “Move on.”
    “Focus on yourself.”

    So you do.

    You go to work.
    You hit the gym.
    You talk to new people.
    You feel good… mostly.

    But then… one of those nights hits.
    Quiet.
    Lonely.
    Heavy.

    And before you know it,
    You’re unblocking.
    Scrolling.
    Reading old messages.
    Looking at saved photos you swore you deleted.

    You tell yourself it’s nothing.
    Just curiosity.
    Just nostalgia.

    But deep down?

    You’re searching.

    For One Message. One Sign. One Signal That Says:

    “I still care.”

    But it doesn’t come.

    And the longer the silence stretches, the louder it gets.
    It’s not just that she’s gone quiet —
    It’s that part of you still wants to matter to her.
    Even if you’ve “moved on.”
    Even if you’re “strong now.”

    And man… that truth stings.

    The Grief No One Warns Men About

    This isn’t a break-up story with fireworks.
    There’s no final fight.
    No dramatic goodbye.
    Just… distance. Coldness. Absence.

    And that’s the worst part:

    How do you mourn something that technically didn’t end — but is clearly gone?

    We don’t talk about this as men.
    We don’t talk about how we sit at our desks, phone in hand, heart half-shattered.
    How we scroll, stalk, replay memories like they’re sacred footage.
    How we ache to be seen.

    But I’ll say it boldly:

    It hurts when she stops choosing you.
    Even if she never says it out loud.

    You Don’t Just Miss Her — You Miss Who You Were With Her

    At first, I thought I missed her.

    But what I really missed…
    Was me.

    The version of me that felt:

    • Confident
    • Attractive
    • Respected
    • Chosen
    • Full of possibility

    That man disappeared when she did.
    And for a while, I didn’t know how to get him back.

    The Delusion That Texting Again Will Fix It

    Even now, part of me wants to message her again.
    I have her number. Her address.
    I could write something perfect, something kind.
    Just enough to open the door.

    But I won’t.

    Because I’ve learned something the hard way:

    Needing someone to validate your worth will always make you bleed.

    What we really want is peace.
    Not a reply.
    Not a second chance.
    Just a sense of “I mattered.”

    And that’s something we have to give ourselves.

    You Are Not Weak for Feeling This

    You’re not soft for missing her.
    You’re not pathetic for checking if she’s online.
    You’re not broken for still hurting months — even years later.

    You’re just human.

    And maybe no one told you this,
    But heartbreak doesn’t need a dramatic ending to cut deep.

    Sometimes silence is enough to split a man in two.

    So What Do You Do With The Pain?

    You sit with it.
    Not forever. But for as long as it takes to tell the truth.

    And here’s the truth:

    • You don’t need her to see your worth.
    • You don’t need to be loved to be lovable.
    • You don’t need to be chosen to choose yourself.

    You pick up the pieces.
    You rebuild your habits.
    You lift the damn weights.
    You eat well.
    You reflect honestly.
    You walk back into your own life like it still matters.

    Because it does.

    And Maybe…

    Maybe she’ll never text back.
    Maybe someone else is in your spot now.
    Maybe you’ll never hear the words you’re dying for.

    But if you can survive that —
    If you can live without revenge,
    Without closure,
    Without being chosen back…

    Then you’ve already won a fight most never even name.

    Because healing isn’t loud.
    It’s not a post on Instagram.
    It’s not the moment you finally forget her name.

    It’s what happens quietly —
    When you keep showing up.
    When you stop checking.
    When you learn to love the man who stayed.

    The one who didn’t give up on you.

    You.

    – Firat Akbas

    for the men who feel too much and say too little.

  • I Didn’t Miss Her — I Missed Me

    A story about rebuilding from emotional ruin, debt, and losing the man I once was.

    Three years ago, when I was 27, I felt like I was at my peak.
    I trained regularly, had a good job, and was building a real business with a powerful woman in the offline world. I finally had that glimpse: “I made it.”

    I even had a girlfriend — long distance, yes, but loving. She believed in me. Never doubted my words, always respectful, always kind. It was the most honest and peaceful relationship I’d ever experienced. I felt like that guy. The man who wins.
    The one with a mission and a queen.

    But things unraveled.

    I took on debt for the business.
    I wasn’t made co-founder.
    I got betrayed.
    Ended up 50k in the red.
    And somewhere in that wreckage, I started pasting my shame and insecurity onto the woman who’d only ever been kind to me. I ruined it.

    That was the day I stopped trusting people.
    Even though she wasn’t the one who hurt me — she became part of that inner story.
    The belief that everyone eventually leaves or uses you.

    And for a long time, I thought I missed her.

    But today, I realize: I didn’t miss the “success” I thought I had.
    I didn’t even miss the “princess” I thought I lost.
    I missed me.
    The version of me that felt powerful, grounded, respected, and on fire.
    The man who believed he was going somewhere.
    That’s who I lost.
    That’s who I’m slowly bringing back.

    My real strength?

    I’m still working off that debt.
    June 25. Age 30. Still -35k.
    No handouts. No miracles. Just sweat.

    I believe in earning my freedom.
    In my mind, I don’t deserve a shortcut — not until I’ve paid with effort.
    So I show up.

    I keep these anchors:

    • Eat well
    • Train hard
    • Reflect honestly
    • Educate myself

    …but I also:

    • Cheat here and there
    • Miss workouts or coast through them
    • Scroll to numb out sometimes
    • Skip the podcast and watch YouTube instead

    So yes, I’m working.
    But I’m living, too.

    Not like Goggins. Not all gas, no brakes.
    I don’t need to be a robot.
    Because when you’re a shattered wine glass, you can’t pour 400ml of wine into yourself and expect to hold it.

    You glue one piece back.
    Then the next.
    Then the next.

    That’s how I’m rebuilding discipline.
    With humanity.
    With self-respect instead of self-abuse.

    What changed?

    I stopped judging myself.
    Stopped living in that mental cage.

    And I started trusting that messy progress is still progress.
    If you broke both legs, you’re not running a marathon in 30 days.
    But you can walk again.
    Then jog.
    And one day — if you still want to — you’ll run again.

    That’s my story. Not a dramatic comeback.
    Just a man finding his way back to himself.

    And maybe that’s enough.