The tens end today.
It's always a been a bit of a struggle for me, articulating feelings. The words we assign them are shades of the reality. They can never hold the weight; they're never exact. If they do inspire some sense of understanding, you can never know for sure that somebody else really knows. The common ones -- happy, angry, surprised -- are easy. You know what they look like. You can point them out on an emoji. It's the complicated emotions that are hard for me. What does remorse look like? What about contentment? Vindication?
I get the same feeling every year on New Year's Eve, and I don't know what it is. I always recognize it as "the feeling I get on New Year's," but I've never really tried to explore it. This year, though, I can't avoid it. We're on the eve of a new decade, and I feel it tenfold.
Let me try. It's like a mix of anxiety and nostalgia, with a little bit of regret mixed in, but also pride? It's like the feeling you get when you don't have enough time to finish something important, but also, weirdly, the feeling you get when you're going over everything to make sure you're done? Like I've just finished packing, and I'm trying to figure out what (if anything) I've forgotten while I'm running out the door.
And there it is -- the clock is ticking, time is running out, and somewhere in my mind I need to know for certain if the year has been a success. If there's anything I missed. It'll never be 2019 again, did I finish it on time?
Except this time, it's a decade. It's the whole 2010's.
I know, I know. It's such a stupid thing to stress about. Years are arbitrary, they only have meaning because we assign meaning to them, there's always more time, move at your own pace, yadda, yadda, yadda. I get it. I know I don't need to indulge this feeling, but even if I try to ignore it... it's still there.
The stupid, stupid question that I don't know how else to word: Did I finish the decade?
Let's rewind. 2010. I would have been 15 at the start of the year. I was a high school sophomore, middling on the swim team, still trying to figure out friends, and, wow, like, deeply suicidal. I was in such a dark place at the beginning of this decade. By the time I was a senior (2011-2012) my social life was in shambles, I had multiple health issues, and I'd quit swimming. At least I got into Northwestern, right? But wait, whoops, I couldn't afford it.
On NYE 2011-12, a friend from church texted me, terrified, because the party she went to (with other friends from church) was flowing with alcohol and she didn't know what to do. I felt that new year's emotion at full force. Two competing thoughts: What happened this year that led to me wanting to be at that party? What happened this year that led to me not going?
I went to college and stayed in that dark place for a bit. Was I having trouble making friends, or did I not want to? I had more health issues, another suicidal scare, and then a close friend died. I retreated into this place where I was keeping people at a distance. I'd make funny jokes, and I'd be fun to be around, but I wouldn't open up. I wouldn't get close to people.
But that... changed, didn't it?
In 2015 I lived in Australia for a few months, and I really felt like I was living. The thing is... I missed home. This place I wanted to get away from so badly that I went to the other side of the world. I wanted to go back. I wanted Michigan, I wanted my friends, I wanted my family. I wanted my life. For the first time in ages, I wanted my life.
Because it was good, wasn't it? Or at least, I could make it better if I tried.
I started swimming again. I got a lot better at singing. I helped make a movie that premiered at a film festival. I started -- slowly -- to let people in.
College ended. New years 2016-17 came around. I was unemployed, a lot of my friends were moving away, and the world seemed completely insane after... that election. I felt that new years feeling as I was putting on a pair of glasses that said "Fuck 2016," with the eye-holes in the 0 and 6. I went to a party with some of my closest friends, the girl I went to prom with, and a whole bunch of strangers. I slept in a kitchen chair. I didn't "finish the year on time," but I was happy.
And then the big things started happening. I got a real job. I finally started dating again. I moved out. I traveled the country. I lived.
NYE 2018-19, I walked to the bar closest to my house for a 20's themed "Gatsby New Year." I wore the suit from my sister's wedding, drank free champaign, and (for the first time in my life) didn't watch the ball drop on TV. We took pictures with a disposable camera that I still haven't taken to be developed. It was just a fun night out. The new year's feeling was there, but it wasn't stressful. It was just... there.
So now the decade's ending, and I'm having my "end of the year" feeling on an "end of the decade" scale, and I can't help but see how far I've come. Ten year challenge? It's been a transformation. From the emo high schooler who wanted to die, to the confident twenty something with a life I desperately want to live.
I think that's a good note to end the decade on. Even if it's just time arbitrarily passing that we've decided to celebrate. Even though so many of those years felt incomplete. This decade, I figured out how to do it. I figured out how to finish on time. Maybe I stumbled along the way, but I'm sticking the landing. 2019? Done. 2010's? Done. 2020?
Bring it on.
Tuesday, December 31, 2019
Monday, January 28, 2019
What have I done!?
I love that sort of whiplash you get when a realization decides to body slam you from behind instead of slowly approaching to flirt for a bit before introducing itself.
The slow-building realization has its perks, sure. It gives you some time to adjust your worldview or make preparations for its implications – but it can be fatal for that same reason. When you don’t have to accept a realization right away, you can deny it, postpone it, or worse, justify invalidating it before reality takes hold. Who voluntarily changes their worldview? Who makes time to prepare for… anything?
That’s where the sudden realization comes in clutch. It forces you to adjust in the moment. There’s no room for denial, no time to procrastinate, nowhere to run. It may be painful in the moment, but you’ll be better off, long term. There’s no avoiding the truth.
This one hit me on New Year’s.
People were posting on the internet about their resolutions, or lack thereof. For a while now, I’ve been a member of the latter group: the lack thereofs. It’s not that I’m apathetic toward improving myself, and I’m certainly not one of those “I don’t subscribe to what everybody else is doing” types. Most of the time, I just already had goals. A new year’s resolution wouldn’t have been anything more than a reaffirmation of what I was already trying to achieve. So, I would typically just ignore the specifics and “resolve to have a better year.” Improving your life isn’t an annual event, I’d say, it’s an ongoing process, and you should make the necessary changes when the opportunities arise or set your goals year ‘round. That sort of thing.
It was during that thought process (this time around) that a little blip of a question popped up in my mind: What are my goals?
Smack. Whiplash. What? What are my goals!? Do I… Do I have any right now?
As somebody who has been extremely goal oriented for his entire life, the realization that I no longer had an active goal hit me like the #3 Grand River bus to Seven Mile as it ran a red light through Cass Avenue (the only difference being that I had time to jump out of the way when that happened in real life). How could this happen? What am I working toward? What is my direction? What have I done!? What am I doing with my life!?
Except, I was doing fine with my life. Things were great. What?
I decided to think back. I used to have goals galore! Real goals – not the fluff, like “read more books” or “lose three pounds.” I’m talking about the big, meaty, life-event-I’m-gunning-for goals. Ninth grade me wanted a leadership role at my youth group. Adolescent me wanted a drivers license. Post-ACT me was gunning for a top tier college. After that it was all, “get your life in order,” stuff – graduate on time, get an internship, get a job, move back out of my parents’ house…
…That was it. That was the last big goal. For years it seemed so distant and unattainable that I never bothered to think past it. Now that it’s done, I’m asking myself, “What’s next?” and for the first time in my life, I don’t have an answer. In theory, I could continue on exactly as I am, and I’d be fine.
That’s a scary thought – that I could, at this moment, choose to stop aiming higher and not suffer for it. That I don’t necessarily need to grow anymore, I could comfortably stay right here. If somebody had told me I’d be afraid of this thought a year ago, I’d have laughed at them. I’m ambitious! I’ve never been stagnant in my life, why would I start now? Now that question has an answer, though. It’ll sneak up on me. I’ll do it on accident. Just like I have been since I moved out of my parents’ house.
Whiplash.
I was searching for an answer. What’s my new goal? What’s next? I need something – anything – to work toward. It motivates me, fills me with passion, keeps me moving from day to day with fervor instead of sludge.
No big overarching goal came to mind. Instead: more realizations. I’d only cracked the dam, so far; The floodgates were about to open.
Smack! Almost all of my goals have been out of necessity. They were aligned in pursuit of self-sustenance, and, whoa, I’m pretty much there. What? Slam! Is that what a big goal is to me? Is that what it’s always been? Some sort of instinctual, keep-yourself-alive drive? Whack! It doesn’t have to be!
That one hit me harder than any of the others and left my brain ringing like a gong. For so long, I was brushing aside, “What do I want to do?” in favor of, “What should I do?”
It’s time to switch questions.
I want to read more. I want to lose some weight. I want to learn Italian, get better at snowboarding, and try out some new recipes. I want to learn how the stock market works and make a dumb investment. I want to write more. I want to find new music. I want to make some videos for me instead of for work. I want to travel, or camp, or sail, or try some stuff I’ve never done before. Like rock climbing or snowmobiling. Tennis, maybe, I don’t know!
When all of that started piling up, it began to look like another big goal (made up of, yes, basically New Year’s resolutions): Be happier; do you.
I’m glad it was a sudden realization. It was painful to realize, but I’ll be better off for it. Who knows how long I would have been stagnant if it had been the slow-building type?
Editor’s note: Did I use “comes in clutch” correctly in the third paragraph? I’ve never actually said that phrase out loud, so I’m a little rusty on the usage, but it seemed appropriate in that context. Really hoping I didn’t just look dumb on that one.
The slow-building realization has its perks, sure. It gives you some time to adjust your worldview or make preparations for its implications – but it can be fatal for that same reason. When you don’t have to accept a realization right away, you can deny it, postpone it, or worse, justify invalidating it before reality takes hold. Who voluntarily changes their worldview? Who makes time to prepare for… anything?
That’s where the sudden realization comes in clutch. It forces you to adjust in the moment. There’s no room for denial, no time to procrastinate, nowhere to run. It may be painful in the moment, but you’ll be better off, long term. There’s no avoiding the truth.
This one hit me on New Year’s.
People were posting on the internet about their resolutions, or lack thereof. For a while now, I’ve been a member of the latter group: the lack thereofs. It’s not that I’m apathetic toward improving myself, and I’m certainly not one of those “I don’t subscribe to what everybody else is doing” types. Most of the time, I just already had goals. A new year’s resolution wouldn’t have been anything more than a reaffirmation of what I was already trying to achieve. So, I would typically just ignore the specifics and “resolve to have a better year.” Improving your life isn’t an annual event, I’d say, it’s an ongoing process, and you should make the necessary changes when the opportunities arise or set your goals year ‘round. That sort of thing.
It was during that thought process (this time around) that a little blip of a question popped up in my mind: What are my goals?
Smack. Whiplash. What? What are my goals!? Do I… Do I have any right now?
As somebody who has been extremely goal oriented for his entire life, the realization that I no longer had an active goal hit me like the #3 Grand River bus to Seven Mile as it ran a red light through Cass Avenue (the only difference being that I had time to jump out of the way when that happened in real life). How could this happen? What am I working toward? What is my direction? What have I done!? What am I doing with my life!?
Except, I was doing fine with my life. Things were great. What?
I decided to think back. I used to have goals galore! Real goals – not the fluff, like “read more books” or “lose three pounds.” I’m talking about the big, meaty, life-event-I’m-gunning-for goals. Ninth grade me wanted a leadership role at my youth group. Adolescent me wanted a drivers license. Post-ACT me was gunning for a top tier college. After that it was all, “get your life in order,” stuff – graduate on time, get an internship, get a job, move back out of my parents’ house…
…That was it. That was the last big goal. For years it seemed so distant and unattainable that I never bothered to think past it. Now that it’s done, I’m asking myself, “What’s next?” and for the first time in my life, I don’t have an answer. In theory, I could continue on exactly as I am, and I’d be fine.
That’s a scary thought – that I could, at this moment, choose to stop aiming higher and not suffer for it. That I don’t necessarily need to grow anymore, I could comfortably stay right here. If somebody had told me I’d be afraid of this thought a year ago, I’d have laughed at them. I’m ambitious! I’ve never been stagnant in my life, why would I start now? Now that question has an answer, though. It’ll sneak up on me. I’ll do it on accident. Just like I have been since I moved out of my parents’ house.
Whiplash.
I was searching for an answer. What’s my new goal? What’s next? I need something – anything – to work toward. It motivates me, fills me with passion, keeps me moving from day to day with fervor instead of sludge.
No big overarching goal came to mind. Instead: more realizations. I’d only cracked the dam, so far; The floodgates were about to open.
Smack! Almost all of my goals have been out of necessity. They were aligned in pursuit of self-sustenance, and, whoa, I’m pretty much there. What? Slam! Is that what a big goal is to me? Is that what it’s always been? Some sort of instinctual, keep-yourself-alive drive? Whack! It doesn’t have to be!
That one hit me harder than any of the others and left my brain ringing like a gong. For so long, I was brushing aside, “What do I want to do?” in favor of, “What should I do?”
It’s time to switch questions.
I want to read more. I want to lose some weight. I want to learn Italian, get better at snowboarding, and try out some new recipes. I want to learn how the stock market works and make a dumb investment. I want to write more. I want to find new music. I want to make some videos for me instead of for work. I want to travel, or camp, or sail, or try some stuff I’ve never done before. Like rock climbing or snowmobiling. Tennis, maybe, I don’t know!
When all of that started piling up, it began to look like another big goal (made up of, yes, basically New Year’s resolutions): Be happier; do you.
I’m glad it was a sudden realization. It was painful to realize, but I’ll be better off for it. Who knows how long I would have been stagnant if it had been the slow-building type?
Editor’s note: Did I use “comes in clutch” correctly in the third paragraph? I’ve never actually said that phrase out loud, so I’m a little rusty on the usage, but it seemed appropriate in that context. Really hoping I didn’t just look dumb on that one.
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