I know what I'm about to say is not true. but it's a kernel in the right direction.
I live in a city where no matter how hard I work I will never own property... and I have this irrational belief that just harder work will allow us to be happy.
Chill. I say that as a reasonably accomplished scientist.
Yes, work hard. But there’s a difference between working hard on the right thing and doing it just because it makes you feel good.
You’re much less likely to find the right thing if you’re in a spiral of working on things you know will be a waste of time. You can pull as many 16 hour shifts at a gas station as you want to, but people only do that because they’re broke, not because they might find it fulfilling.
I recommend reading http://www.paulgraham.com/greatwork.html in its entirety. You strike me as the type of person it was aimed at. And believe it or not, one of the most important takeaways is that you have to allow yourself to play, just a little, in order to Rome the kind of work that makes you happy.
I can reason that what I'm saying is wrong, but it's how I feel. Some other comments have recommended getting therapy... I have, since I was 18. That's the only reason I'm able to say these things and see myself comically on the treadmill. I'm voicing these things aloud because I figured others might felt lack of permission to indulge in a few hours of physics lectures because of a sense of duty to getting things done
Spoilers ahead! (If historical allegory can have spoilers)
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When he collapses from overwork, the pigs send him to the knacker's yard to be slaughtered, in exchange for money to buy a case of whiskey for the pigs to drink.
Squealer says that his sayings, "Comrade Napoleon is always right" and "I will work harder!" should live on in all the animals;
I could have written this same comment. I fully understand where the mental irrationality comes from. I’ve done therapy etc. But what I call “the hearth of the city” means it’s hard to ever really relax. Caring for a family accelerated it.
