Great Warinthorn: Hormones Out of Balance from Not Resting Properly, Lives Daily Fighting Internal Voices
In an intimate interview, Thai actor and media personality Great Warinthorn reveals the vulnerability behind his perfect public image, sharing how his rescue cat with a severed leg became a catalyst for profound personal change. He discusses the emotional struggle of making the decision to amputate the cat's injured leg and how caring for the animal has helped him reconnect with his emotions and soften his previously rigid lifestyle focused on productivity.
Great Warinthorn: Hormones Out of Balance from Not Resting Properly, Lives Daily Fighting Internal Voices. In the "How are you feeling" interview, Great Warinthorn reveals another side of himself—a man who appears perfect and strong outwardly but constantly struggles with inner voices, fears, expectations, losing his beloved cat, a productivity addiction, and living without rest until he forgot to listen to his own emotions.
What happened with the cat? Great Warinthorn: When I first took him in, I didn't plan to own a cat at all. He had four legs initially. But one day, he dragged himself to my home with an injured leg. I decided to bring him inside and took him to a vet the next day. This happened during COVID, so I felt bonded to him. It was my first cat. Though I never thought I'd like cats, I ended up taking him to the vet and getting acupuncture treatments. The vet said his nerves were damaged. If left alone, he'd chew his own leg continuously, get infected, and die quickly. The solution was to amputate his leg. Cats adapt quickly, and he can live a full life, but we'd have to care for him since he couldn't hunt naturally. So I chose this solution. He became my first cat.
You love living alone—how did having another life in your home change things? Great Warinthorn: Honestly, I didn't think much about it initially. I just knew his quality of life depended on us. If we amputated his leg, we had to care for him. At that crossroads, letting him go meant he'd die quickly, but if we didn't care for him after amputation, that wouldn't be right. So I didn't overthink it—I just decided to take care of him.
How did he change your life? Great Warinthorn: I feel like I discovered the third and fourth voices within myself. I found a tenderness I never knew I needed. Interacting with a pet made me realize something—it's made me feel tired but also want to care for him the best I can. It happened naturally. Living alone, I'm introspective and self-aware. I remember when he first came, he meowed a lot. It was cute. In the early days, as his leg healed and he hopped around, I eventually realized he was adorable and talkative, very good at being affectionate. Before neutering, he'd vocalize constantly—every breath. Sometimes I couldn't concentrate on reading. If I didn't hold him, he wouldn't stop meowing. But after neutering, it's like his voice box was removed. I remember looking at his face and thinking, "Where would I find such a cute cat again?" That was my most tormented period—probably when I learned he was sick and in pain.
Your heart sinks instantly when the vet says something's wrong—does it turn your world upside down? Great Warinthorn: Yes. The most disturbing thing is seeing him suffer. These days, I do something: I wake up and meditate for 10 minutes every morning. I've been doing this for a month, and on good days, I'm okay. The moment I sensed something was wrong, that day everyone stayed home. I hadn't told my mother yet—I just told her, "Mom, I'm going to check on the cat first. He's not feeling well." But that morning, I hadn't spoken to anyone. I felt the house was chaotic. I sat alone meditating.