I was never one to deny myself pleasure. I’d eat McDonald’s whenever I could. I was a binger. I’d finish entire rolls of sweets in a single go. (And often suffer for it. Curse you, Nerds and Skittles!) I’d spend hours and hours playing video games, whiling away time online, reading (okay, reading isn’t bad for you, but it gave me pleasure), and yes, you-know-what. I never knew any reason for moderation. A good thing, I reasoned, is worth consuming in excess.

My dad always told me that I’d regret it in the future if I didn’t work hard now. I always found this to be a pretty weak argument. It kinda implies that my present excess is accidental, or unintentional- that I’m doing it because I haven’t learnt better, because I don’t know better.  I don’t think that’s completely true. I did subconsciously weigh the pros and cons of my actions, somewhat. Even now, looking back- repeating a year and school and getting mediocre A-level grades- it was all worth it. I don’t hold it against myself.

I’ve always been very forgiving of people. Sometimes, in ultra-rare moments of anger, I try to will myself into staying mad at someone. It never works. If I were a caveman, I’d be bullied and exploited because of my rational impulse to forgive. (Well, if I were a caveman, I’d have gone through very different experiences, and interpreted them differently, and I’d likely be a very different person- but you know what I mean.) I’m structurally incapable of holding grudges. It’s a waste of my time.

Where am I going with that? To me, “You’ll regret this,” is reasonably similar to “you won’t be able to forgive yourself”. And I’ve always been able to forgive myself so far, and I’m pretty sure that I almost always will be.

Hate the sin, not the sinner! Me-Today forgives and accepts Me-Yesterday unconditionally, so I think it’s reasonable to believe that Me-Tomorow will do the same for Me-Today. (But not absolutely certain- induction is impossible. We can never predict the future by looking to the past. But you know what I mean.)

But I haven’t always been happy. The problem with being an overly forgiving person is that you’ll be exploited by others- or worse, yourself. And the problem with self-deception is that it can never be completely consistent- so sooner or later, the truth will slip through between the cracks- and the truth is that you gradually wreck devastation on yourself and your loved ones, and it’s a witheringly painfully idea to bear. It’s something that we have to accept, take responsibility for, learn to live with.

Subconsciously, it’s very difficult to evade the impulse to deceive oneself. (As I was writing this in my notebook, I wrote “Thankfully the feeling doesn’t last long,” which is a sobering realization of how the subconscious is eager to deceive itself.) The day-to-day happiness that comes from lying to yourself doesn’t seem so worth it when you find yourself lying face down in the mud.

Flash forward to BMT where I rediscover a simple truth- I hate letting other people down and causing them suffering. I’d rather be betrayed than betray someone. I’m the sort of guy who, upon being scolded angrily by a superior, feels bad for them. I’m sorry I made you so angry, I’m sorry I spoiled your mood, I’m sorry I disappointed you. Please don’t worry about me, I’m totally fine if I fail. I’ll take responsibility for it, you don’t have to.

(I’m making myself out to seem nicer and more saintly than normal. I often gave minimal effort in many of my group projects in school- which I now regret considerably, on hindsight. I did usually off-set that by giving kickass presentations, but I still feel bad about it.)

It’s only after BMT (and on hindsight, having played in a band, and having a group of friends, and being in a long-term relationship) that I realize how much better I behave when people I care about hold me accountable. (Regrettably, I never really cared much about studying to make my parents happy. Perhaps I was still emotionally under-developed then. Socially irresponsible.)

Living with other guys in a context where our actions had direct consequences on each other’s well-being kept me more honest, motivated, positive, encouraging. I carry myself differently when I realize that my actions have consequences that extend beyond myself.

I put this idea in parallel with my evolving thoughts about identity- “Yesterday is only what I was, and tomorrow even that will be gone.” (Stacyann Chin)

So here’s a hypothetical model that elegantly puts it all together- the Tomorrow-Self.

Tomorrow-Visa is my buddy, my pal. I (aka Today-Visa) an Yesterday-Visa’s Tomorrow-Visa. He’s a great guy. He’s almost like Jesus in the sense that he hasn’t done anything wrong. (Yet.) He’s like my child, my progeny. And he deserves the best. From me.

I don’t actually owe him anything. And he won’t ask me for anything. He won’t bitch or whine or complain about what a lousy buddy I’ve been. He’s too kind and mature for that. He accepts me for who I am. And that makes me the parasite in this relationship. It makes me want to be a better person, for his sake.

So personal responsibility can be fused with social responsibility if you learn to visualise the two concepts as interdependent. People obsessed with self-interest would do well to realize that looking out for others is in their self-interest. Conversely, taking care of yourself can also be in the interest of others- a concept which could be encapsulated as “Don’t be a burden.” (This is strongly inculcated in the military, where one man’s incompetence could jeopardize the lives of many others.)

I find social responsibility a little easier to accept and embody than personal responsibility- I’d reason that I have the right to fuck myself up if it doesn’t affect you. The thing is, it inevitably will affect you in some way. Nobody is absolutely isolated. (Though of course, some people are more connected and influential than others.)

On the other hand, I believe that one should flush public toilets after using them and keep the table neat and tidy after eating at a public place, so that others don’t have to deal with that stuff. (I will confess to littering cigarette butts- I justify this in my head by telling myself that if I throw them somewhere nobody really notices or uses, it doesn’t really matter. But I try to minimise this now.)  Rhere’s always an element of self-interest in being socially responsible– by doing so, I make others happy, and more likely to reciprocate- which subsequently makes my life easier, too. Easier and more pleasant living for all.

So why not enter these “social contracts” with ourselves? If I can share things with my buddy, why not also share things with my Tomorrow-Self? (I immediately see how it’s possible to get carried away with this train of thought, using it to justify hoarding and miserliness. Pragmatically speaking, that will never really be an issue for someone as hedonistic and impulsive as me. if it’s a problem for you, though, then perhaps it would be wise to approach the solution from the other direction.)

I test this hypothesis start with resolving the simplest and most superficial matters- applying the Broken Windows theory to the Self. I kept myself from binging on sweets and cigarettes, telling myself that I ought to save some for Tomorrow-Visa. He shouldn’t have to suffer because of my selfish attitude. He won’t judge me for it, I know- which makes me feel all the more compelled to reward him. I want to create an emotional bond where pleasing Tomorrow-Visa makes me happy. That doesn’t mean giving up what I love- he wouldn’t want that. It means compromise- and that doesn’t actually have to mean giving up anything- mostly it just means being more effective. It’s an elephant in the room few people talk about (except successful people, I suppose)- the idea that the skill with which you manage your life has a direct impact on the lives of the people around you. (Of course, remember to praise the act, not the actor.)

When cliche says “Have a good relationship with yourself,” few of us think of taking it literally- to juxtapose that with the idea that we can hypothetically visualize ourselves as the sum (or more than the sum) of many separate (but not distinct) selves. Some might find this a little schizophrenic. Personally, I think it’s completely normal, and a necessary condition for survival. Diversity enriches our survivability: having a range of “selves” to choose from allows us to pick and choose accordingly, to adapt to the context and environment.

I personally find this inductive model of the self to be stimulating and challenging, very much like a real relationship you might have with a partner or friend- it’s a framework where it becomes clearer (to me, at least) what can and ought to be done to better the relationship. I realise that while I think I have a great relationship with myself (and we all have the tendency to deceive ourselves that we’re doing all we can in all our relationships), it’s not as great as it could be. And that’s more than a personal thing- my personal incompetence bleeds over and affects others- because it affects my mood, and moods are contagious things.

I’m more financially responsible now than I’ve ever been before (apart from when I was a little child, I suppose, who saved money because I didn’t have anything I really wanted to buy), for the sake of tomorrow-Visa. And knowing I’m part of a relationship that I’m contributing to, of something greater than me (despite ultimately being within me), makes present-Me happier than I’ve ever been- calm, confident, at ease. The beautiful feeling you have when you’re in spiritual communion with another creature? You can have it with yourself too, if you learn to have a healthy compromise instead of allowing present-You’s wants and needs to dominate tomorrow-You, or vice-versa. Balance. Compromise. Love.