Firat Akbas

Tag: mental-health

  • 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.