Chapter 1266 It's Not a God, It's a Beast

"Heimdall is by my side. You may think that this is a waste of the precious time of a legendary monk. But you must know that the most important job of Heimdall is not to serve me, but to wait for me when I can't control the abnormal hair. During the holy seal, he took the timely action to subdue my bloodthirsty long hair and calm down the frantic monster in my heart..."

Sir Custis looked up at Joan, his expression became more complicated.

"You may think that these reasons are too far-fetched. If it is really inconvenient for me to live with the children and meet them often, at least I should keep in touch with each other."

"It should be so, but unfortunately I can't do it."

"Joan, when I left the family for the first year, if I could overcome my inner cowardice, overcome my sensitive self-esteem, and take the initiative to write letters to my wife and daughter, as long as I take this first step, everything will be different, In the days to come, I will definitely be able to maintain correspondence with my family.”

"Unfortunately, I didn't actually do that."

"I didn't write a letter in the first year, because I really couldn't think of any happy things to share with my family, and I couldn't bear to complain about my distress in the letter, causing my family to worry about me."

"I always comfort myself, lying to myself that I am too busy with work, unwell, and in a bad mood, and now I just want to be alone."

"After a while, when my situation improves and I am not so busy, or if there is any good news worth sharing with my family, I will definitely write to my family."

"I have made up my mind countless times that I must write a letter to my family tomorrow, but tomorrow is postponed to the day after tomorrow, and year after year passes like this. The longer the time drags on, the higher the barriers in my heart will pile up. It's getting deeper and deeper, and it's getting harder and harder to pick up a pen and write a letter."

"Now that more than ten years have passed, let alone writing letters to my family, it is even more difficult for me to set foot on the land of my hometown again than to set foot on mountains of swords and seas of fire..."

Sir Custis wiped the wet corners of his eyes, and a self-deprecating smile rose from the corner of his lips.

"You may not be able to understand this kind of conflicted mood, my child, because you are still young, and I hope you will never experience this kind of mood in your life. It is really a very shameful thing."

Joan listened to the old man's heartfelt confession silently, and it was difficult for him to calm down.

In fact, he could fully understand Sir Custis' complex and self-blame mentality.

Because he was also timid when he was close to his hometown, and he had the urge to escape from his family and live in isolation countless times.

The position arranged for him by human society is like a pair of shoes that are too small in size. In such an environment, even if the people around him are friendly to him, he still feels awkward, painful and even suffocated from time to time.

Just as Sir Custis was filled with self-blame, Joann could not blame others for his pain.

For him, "existence" itself is a kind of torture. The more he integrates into the crowd, into the society, and gets involved in the intricate network of interpersonal relationships, the more profound the pain will be.

In a crowd, the existence of others is like a self-contained force field, exerting attraction or repulsion on you all the time, constantly squeezing or tearing you, causing you to feel indescribable pain.

In such a society, it doesn't matter whether other people are good or bad to you, what matters is that to you, other people are hell.

Of course, this is not all the fault of others, especially in Joan's situation. Almost all the people around him treat him with kindness. Morality and rationality do not allow him to blame others. He can only blame himself for his awkward situation.

This body is "heaven", and the people around are angels, but you are the devil.

In the eyes of the devil, "heaven" is an uncomfortable "hell", and "hell" is his "heaven".

It's not anyone else's fault, it's not the world's fault, it's all your own fault.

Joan felt that Sir Custis's mentality was similar to his own, and perhaps this was the root cause of his having to escape from his family and affection, even though it made him very self-blaming and often deeply repented for his selfishness and cowardice.

However, escaping from the crowd can actually give him a space to be alone, so that he can take a big breath and feel relaxed.

"Son, I want to give you a little advice."

Sir Custis wiped away the tears from the corners of his eyes, raised his head, and stared at the young man in front of him with extremely serious eyes.

"Think about your relatives and friends, those who have been good to you but haven't contacted for a long time, if you still have the courage, you must take the initiative to write to them, don't be ashamed to complain to your relatives and friends, don't think that any suffering is your own. Carry it alone."

"Even if you are holding back your nausea, you still have to write the first line. As long as you persist in writing the first line, you will have a chance to overcome your inner demons, and you will benefit a lot from it in the future journey of life."

"If you fail to take this first step, you will fall into a vicious circle, becoming more and more withdrawn in the deepening self-blame and guilt, and more and more out of tune with the real society, just like me now, just like me A solitary beast."

Joan was speechless.

Sir Custis's advice hit the scar in his heart.

Since his grandfather passed away, compared with the grief of losing a loved one, the stronger emotion in his heart is an urge to escape from his hometown, or "relief" is more accurate.

The only relative who is related to him by blood is no longer alive, and he has already fulfilled his filial piety. It seems that he has received an "amnesty order" and can finally escape from the "prison". obligation.

He is unwilling to admit this twisted mentality, but his body is honest. In the past two years, he has not replied a single letter to his relatives and friends in his hometown, including Candy, Rebecca and George Vassar who treated him like family.

He blamed himself for his ruthlessness and ungratefulness, but the more he blamed himself, the more he wanted to escape from it all.

As Sir Custis pointed out: When you are afraid to write letters, things become dangerous.

The longer the time drags on, the more difficult it is for you to write and speak, until you finally lose the ability to speak out to the outside world, wishing that everyone would forget about you and let you fend for yourself.

You are still alive, you are still physically able, but socially you are deaf, dumb, and blind.

You are socially dead.

So, should we try to heal ourselves, start from writing the first letter, try to change ourselves, and redeem ourselves?

Reason will give an affirmative answer.

Unfortunately, on this issue, the power of reason is too weak.

Of course you know that every letter you send to the outside world under such circumstances, no matter what the specific content is, is essentially a "letter for help".

You understand the truth, but your rationality cannot control your behavior, and your self-esteem and inferiority will not allow you to send this distress letter.

This is the root of all tragedy about you.

(End of the fifth volume)

Thank you for your company over the past year, I wish you all a happy and healthy Chinese New Year

I hope you will be with me in the new year