Garbage Time: A Term in Sports and Its Psychological Implications

"Garbage time" is a term from sports, referring to the period in a timed game when the score difference is so large that the outcome of the match is virtually decided. This remaining time is often considered meaningless.

Since mid-year, this term has gained popularity online, possibly reflecting a widespread psychological feeling of being in a low point, hopeless, or on a sinking ship with no ability to change the course.

It represents a sense of powerlessness over one's fate. Sometimes people feel despair because they think, "I thought my struggles were unique," or "Everyone is struggling, even those who try harder than I do." Once this realization sets in, they may feel that work, education, or creativity no longer matter, as they have lost hope in "whether there is any way out."

Consultant Xia Tianyu also experienced a low point in life, describing the feeling as "slime"—as if all energy had been drained, and the body was overwhelmed. He wanted to move forward but didn’t know which direction to take.

When life cannot be fixed by climbing up, he chose to "actively descend." “In Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, go down a little, and then a little more. The more you touch the basic needs, the more the instinct to live will explode,” Xia said, describing the experience as a "burning the boats" feeling.

1. How do you feel when you hear the term "garbage time"?

"I feel like I’m wasting time."

There’s a sense of being forced, a feeling that you’re being pushed to move forward but not enjoying the present. Sometimes, wasting time is voluntary, like “I want to scroll through my phone”; other times, it's a passive compulsion, where you feel you have no other choice but to do it.

 

For many people, the past may represent a kind of "pseudo-self-actualization": feeling confident about achieving their goals, thinking they can accomplish what they set out to do. It's like when the stock market is doing well, most stocks offer an opportunity to profit. But this is just a "self-fulfilling prophecy" experience. When you’re in an environment where the cost of challenges is high, and tolerance for error is low, planning life with high expectations—aiming for "high social achievement" to feel valuable—can lead to greater shocks.

 

In my experience in counseling (though this may not be representative of all therapists’ experiences), there has been an increase in men aged 30-40 seeking help. At the same time, there has also been an increase in "goal-oriented" visits, where people focus on achieving specific outcomes or results, regardless of gender.

 

As someone trained in neuroscience, I understand that the body has two nervous systems: the sympathetic (active system) and the parasympathetic (rest system). When they work in balance, you’re in a state of mind-body equilibrium.

 

However, between the ages of 30 and 35, the parasympathetic system naturally begins to decline.

 

 This often leads to questions such as, "Why is my performance declining in tasks I could handle before? Why do I feel so drained?"

 

This decline is something everyone experiences at some point in life. However, during so-called "garbage time," many people are forced into this experience.

 

2. Many people want "advice, something simple and actionable" from psychology, like "What can I do specifically to get through this time?" How do you respond to this need?

 

When life is going well, we can make relatively free choices—this is "living with effort." But adversity often means more limitations, requiring us to use "effortless wisdom" to find balance.

 

If you're in a low point, one thing to do is adjust your expectations. Instead of setting a very high goal and thinking, "I must achieve this," learn to step back: "Even if I don't reach this goal, I can still accept myself. I still can. I have some limitations now, and I accept that some things cannot be done."

 

What should I achieve in my life? What should I do to make life better and more manageable? Adlerian psychology calls this "life blueprint."

 

When most people find they can’t use the old methods to achieve their life blueprint, and can’t meet the expectations they’ve set for their lives, they experience learned helplessness. Like Pavlov’s dogs, the more they try, the less effective they become, leading them to stop trying altogether to minimize frustration and disappointment.

 

For 99% of people, they don’t lack a life blueprint; it's just that in the process of constructing this blueprint, many personal biases and unrealistic expectations are built in. This leads to a "disconnection from reality," as Adler puts it. For example, "Happiness depends on being liked by everyone"—this is a fabricated goal, and we can never achieve it.

 

In certain situations, this life blueprint can work. But in others, it fails, leading to limitations. Therefore, we need to expand the blueprint and adjust expectations. The counseling perspective is: to pick something up, you first need to put something down.

 

The second point is to actively create states that help you feel calm and relaxed. From the perspective of mindfulness, it’s about "connecting with the present moment." You can achieve this through work, walking in the city, or other activities.

 

Personally, I encourage doing concrete and creative tasks, such as painting or clay modeling. Creativity helps you enter a "flow state," which provides a peaceful experience. Often, you don’t need to do much; simply focusing on relaxation is key, and letting this phase pass naturally.

 

3. On the Role of Psychology in Addressing Structural Social Problems

Recently, a widely-discussed post titled "Psychology Doesn't Want to Bear Sociology's Responsibility" emerged, as a response to the claim that "psychology is useless in solving big problems." How do you view psychology’s role in structural social issues?

Human instinct is to avoid feelings of defeat and the sense of "there’s nothing I can do." Other disciplines like sociology or economics often focus on analysis, identifying causes, and proposing solutions. From an emotional perspective, these approaches bypass the individual’s sense of powerlessness.

This is where psychology becomes less appealing. It requires us to first acknowledge feelings of defeat and helplessness, recognize the need for support, and then address those negative emotions. Unlike other disciplines, psychology delves into human vulnerabilities. People are naturally inclined to externalize blame, but psychology asks them to look inward—to accept that while external factors matter, much of the issue lies in how one perceives the environment. It shifts part of the responsibility for solutions onto the individual.

So, is psychology ineffective in solving problems? Not necessarily. Instead, psychology challenges us to take ownership of the solutions.

How do we manage these negative emotions?

Take anger as an example. Begin by expressing your anger. Suppressing anger only internalizes it, turning it into self-criticism and intensifying its effects. The more it is bottled up, the more overwhelming it becomes.

Beneath anger, there is often sadness or grief. When we feel unseen or unheard in a difficult situation, anger might emerge as a way to loudly criticize our surroundings. But the true underlying message might be: "I am struggling. This is hard for me."

Culturally, there’s often an added layer of shame or moral anxiety accompanying emotions like anger and sadness. Thoughts like "How can someone in my position feel this way? How can I, given who I am, admit I’m sad or struggling?" often arise.

In psychological counseling, we aim to untangle and articulate these emotions. By gradually expressing the core feelings, the burden lessens. Imagine your mental space as three jars. By pouring out two jars filled with old emotions, you create room to take in new methods, perspectives, or feelings.

 

 4. How Did You Get Through a Low Point?

My low point occurred during my sophomore and junior years of college. Later, I discovered a term for this in academic research: the Sophomore Slump.

As freshmen, we often look forward to college life, believing we can achieve so much and participate in countless activities. But by sophomore year, major life choices begin to surface. You face decisions like which specialization to pursue within your field, how to take responsibility for your life, and how to use your newfound freedom effectively.

I didn’t know which path was right for me, found it difficult to access resources, and even harder to motivate myself. That’s how I felt during my low point: as though all my energy had been stolen.

Faced with so many unknowns in life, I turned to gaming. At the time, League of Legends was popular. It wasn’t that the game itself was so enjoyable, but playing and chatting with friends distracted me from thinking about my uncertainties.

This ties into a perspective I appreciate from Erich Fromm: when faced with freedom and choices, our instinct is often to escape. We grow up following inertia. We’re placed in roles defined by others’ expectations rather than self-determined ones. When the moment comes to decide for yourself, it can feel overwhelming.

I spent over six months in this muddled state—skipping classes, sleeping, gaming. The more I avoided thinking about my situation, the more I felt submerged, like a slime stuck in place. I wanted to move, but I didn’t know which direction to go. My attitude was: As long as I don’t fail out, it’s fine. Then one day, lying in bed, I thought: This isn’t the life I want.

At that moment, I considered: if I can’t rise, can I choose to descend? Both rising and descending require personal effort. When you descend far enough, you’re forced to confront life’s darkness. You begin to ask: Are there things I absolutely don’t want to lose, even now?

The hardest part is making a decision. Breaking free from inertia and stepping into a new life is always difficult. You have to endure the discomfort of going against habits ingrained in your body and mind.

My first step was quitting gaming. I forced myself to spend time in the library, copying passages from books. I started with anything—books on life, literature, even gemstone identification. I didn’t overthink it. Gradually, I found some joy and a sense of value.

When you dedicate time to something, you naturally begin to find meaning in it. This is human nature. We assign significance to what we do. If you stick with it, this sense of meaning grows stronger over time. It’s an internal process of self-conditioning.

In my junior year, I read three to four hundred books in one semester—about one book a day, from morning to late evening. This process gradually calmed my mind.

Through the dialogues and stories in those books, I began to approach my own questions. It was an active experience. Humans have a tendency called selective attention—when you focus on achieving something, your attention gravitates toward helpful content. Stories flooded into my mind, and I felt lighter, regaining my sense of direction.

When you act for yourself, you often find others willing to support you and offer resources to help you move forward. People are inherently social and altruistic. Even if you later realize a particular path isn’t for you, it expands your perspective and experience.

I’m someone deeply driven by a sense of meaning.

My approach was “need downgrading.” Instead of aiming for “self-actualization” at the top of Maslow’s hierarchy, I shifted my focus downward, toward more basic needs. The deeper you connect with fundamental needs, the more life’s instincts emerge. It’s like burning bridges behind you, leaving no choice but to push forward.

When it comes to action, doing something is better than nothing. It’s okay to be inefficient or to fail. In such moments, your priority is to stabilize yourself and get your body moving.

When you commit to enduring the internal conflict and struggle, your body will reward you with progress and resilience. From there, you can begin climbing Maslow’s hierarchy of needs again.

 

5. You just mentioned something very moving: "Descent" is also a decision that requires self-participation. Many perspectives suggest that human nature is inherently lazy and prone to giving up, with a basic assumption that "if I don't keep striving, I'll fail."

People do have inertia, but you can't attribute everything to laziness because humans also possess an innate drive to act spontaneously.

From Adler's perspective, this type of reasoning reveals that the individual might be afraid to face the failure and frustration that come with stopping. Instead, they choose to avoid those feelings. Even if they know their current method isn’t working, they still persist—not out of any grand delusion, but simply due to human inertia.

What’s truly exhausting for people is being in a “45-degree recline” state—not fully lying down, yet not standing upright either. This phase drains energy the most, and when the energy is depleted, it’s no wonder one feels immobilized.

So, why not take the time to recharge? Allow yourself to escape for a while, or go all in and push yourself to move forward.

If you find you can’t manage either of these, you’ll remain stuck at that 45-degree angle, and over time, not only will your back hurt, but your spirit will also grow weary.