We call them many things: anxiety, addiction, self-doubt, rage, or despair. Ancient cultures had a more vivid name for them:
To conquer a demon, do not fight it on its turf. Starve anxiety by refusing to catastrophize. Starve self-pity by practicing gratitude. Starve anger by choosing silence over reaction. The demon will scream. Let it scream. A starving beast is loud, but a starving beast is weak. 3. Armor Up: The Power of Routine & Discipline You will never win a sporadic war against a chronic demon. You cannot fight depression only on Tuesdays. You need a fortress. conquering demons
That fire of anger, if tamed, becomes the fuel for justice. That deep sensitivity, if directed, becomes the source of art. That shadow of fear, if respected, becomes the source of caution that keeps you alive. We call them many things: anxiety, addiction, self-doubt,
Shame is the demon’s shield. When you hide your struggle, you reinforce its armor. When you speak the truth to a trusted ally, you crack that shield. Find your people. If you don’t have them, find a support group. Courage is not the absence of fear; it is being terrified and still picking up the phone. Here is the most important lesson I have learned. You will never truly kill your demons. And you shouldn’t want to. Starve self-pity by practicing gratitude
Every time you indulge a jealous thought, you give it a steak. Every time you choose the numbing distraction over the difficult conversation, you pour it a drink. Every time you replay an old insult for the hundredth time, you are its caterer.
Go slay your dragon. And when you are done, go help someone else slay theirs. “He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.” – Nietzsche
Conquest begins with a single, terrifying act: