ArcticMoon
#1 ·
Once, back in school, my Hungarian grammar teacher asked our class to write an essay about what conscience means to us. Does it even exist? We were about 15 years old, and not only was it difficult to write on this topic, but we also lacked enough life experience to create a fully developed essay. Back then, we hadn’t yet been in situations where our conscience could truly intervene.
Since then, however, I have lived through so much that I can now answer these questions without any difficulty.
I am the kind of person who cannot coldly watch others suffer—especially if I am the cause of it. I am willing to help people even when I know they might stab me in the back because my conscience won’t allow me to leave them behind. Of course, I don’t intend to share overly personal examples, but I will mention a few that I believe are general enough that they could happen to anyone.
Let’s say someone’s computer breaks down so badly that fixing it becomes urgent. Even if I’m not an expert on the subject, I will go and try to help because two people are at least twice as effective. I can’t just stand by and watch someone struggle, feeling helpless because they can’t fix it… I feel it is my duty to help. If afterward, that person laughs about me with their friends, mocking how clueless and incompetent I was, I still won’t regret helping—even though it’s clear I was betrayed. I did what I could, and from that point on, it is the other person’s responsibility how they treat the help I gave or me as a person in general.
I have friends who think a bit more slowly than I do. This is not to praise myself or put them down, but they are aware of it too, which is why they turn to me for help when needed. Even if my patience is wearing thin, my conscience won’t let me leave them behind because I know it is my duty to help as much as I can.
For several years, I was involved with Russian communities. Many of you probably know that they are unable to access many foreign services because they can’t pay for them. It was painful to watch how I could have everything while they had to find loopholes. So, when I was in Russia, I helped them purchase foreign products. My conscience simply wouldn’t let me stand by and not offer my assistance, even though it wasn’t exactly beneficial for me. They would typically pay me the price of the service in rubles, but in the end, I often ended up spending much more in my own currency. It was a huge loss for me, but I was still happy to help.
And now, even though I’m no longer in contact with them, my conscience still bothers me for not helping anymore—even though I know in my mind that there is a valid reason for it. I have trouble falling asleep, I don’t smile as much, and people keep asking me what’s wrong. But how do I explain that my conscience is tormenting me for no longer being available to help them, even though rationally, I know I have good reason to step back?
99% of people say my appearance suggests I am depressed and that I should see a psychologist. I tried—last summer. But do you know that feeling when, during the actual session, it’s as if nothing is really wrong? Do you know what it’s like when you’ve gotten so used to never talking about these things with anyone that it’s just as hard to open up to a psychologist? And then, my conscience torments me again—because even though I am taking action to be healthy, it’s not working since I can’t open up to a stranger. I have a hard time trusting people after all the times I’ve placed my trust in someone, only to have it backfire.
For example, I once trusted people enough to open certain doors for them that I normally would have kept closed. Later, I found out from multiple unrelated sources that those very people were trying to make my life miserable. And again, my conscience started tormenting me—not because I did something irrational, but because I chose the difficult path, the one that seemed right, instead of the easier option of simply enduring it all.
In summary, I do believe conscience exists—some people experience it more strongly, while others feel it less. Unfortunately, for me, it is very strong.
What do you think? What are your experiences?
Since then, however, I have lived through so much that I can now answer these questions without any difficulty.
I am the kind of person who cannot coldly watch others suffer—especially if I am the cause of it. I am willing to help people even when I know they might stab me in the back because my conscience won’t allow me to leave them behind. Of course, I don’t intend to share overly personal examples, but I will mention a few that I believe are general enough that they could happen to anyone.
Let’s say someone’s computer breaks down so badly that fixing it becomes urgent. Even if I’m not an expert on the subject, I will go and try to help because two people are at least twice as effective. I can’t just stand by and watch someone struggle, feeling helpless because they can’t fix it… I feel it is my duty to help. If afterward, that person laughs about me with their friends, mocking how clueless and incompetent I was, I still won’t regret helping—even though it’s clear I was betrayed. I did what I could, and from that point on, it is the other person’s responsibility how they treat the help I gave or me as a person in general.
I have friends who think a bit more slowly than I do. This is not to praise myself or put them down, but they are aware of it too, which is why they turn to me for help when needed. Even if my patience is wearing thin, my conscience won’t let me leave them behind because I know it is my duty to help as much as I can.
For several years, I was involved with Russian communities. Many of you probably know that they are unable to access many foreign services because they can’t pay for them. It was painful to watch how I could have everything while they had to find loopholes. So, when I was in Russia, I helped them purchase foreign products. My conscience simply wouldn’t let me stand by and not offer my assistance, even though it wasn’t exactly beneficial for me. They would typically pay me the price of the service in rubles, but in the end, I often ended up spending much more in my own currency. It was a huge loss for me, but I was still happy to help.
And now, even though I’m no longer in contact with them, my conscience still bothers me for not helping anymore—even though I know in my mind that there is a valid reason for it. I have trouble falling asleep, I don’t smile as much, and people keep asking me what’s wrong. But how do I explain that my conscience is tormenting me for no longer being available to help them, even though rationally, I know I have good reason to step back?
99% of people say my appearance suggests I am depressed and that I should see a psychologist. I tried—last summer. But do you know that feeling when, during the actual session, it’s as if nothing is really wrong? Do you know what it’s like when you’ve gotten so used to never talking about these things with anyone that it’s just as hard to open up to a psychologist? And then, my conscience torments me again—because even though I am taking action to be healthy, it’s not working since I can’t open up to a stranger. I have a hard time trusting people after all the times I’ve placed my trust in someone, only to have it backfire.
For example, I once trusted people enough to open certain doors for them that I normally would have kept closed. Later, I found out from multiple unrelated sources that those very people were trying to make my life miserable. And again, my conscience started tormenting me—not because I did something irrational, but because I chose the difficult path, the one that seemed right, instead of the easier option of simply enduring it all.
In summary, I do believe conscience exists—some people experience it more strongly, while others feel it less. Unfortunately, for me, it is very strong.
What do you think? What are your experiences?