For most, the start of a new year instills in us the need to better ourselves. By some miracle of nature, we are granted a fresh slate at the start of January. We are given the opportunity to start over again, to mend our past transgressions and alleviate our multitude of faults.
Everything
is new and clean, perhaps by way of gifts given to us at Christmas or the
promise to do better this year, and these things assist us on our narcissistic
journey to self-improvement. We proudly display our new bling, stay on track
with our New Year’s diets, and show up at the gym every day. We vow to cut down
our daily consumption of alcohol and cursing, promise to be nicer to each
other, and lose fifteen (or maybe twenty…) pounds.
But do we really change?
We desire
to be more productive but do we really exhaust every effort we possess? We
strive to be more honest, formidable people but mustn’t we first be honest with
ourselves? We will ourselves to be more understanding and open-minded with each
other but how can we possibly if we’ve never really forgiven ourselves?
The New
Year is about starting over. It’s about new beginnings and leaving the past
behind. It’s not about drowning in years of bad decisions and previous
mistakes. It’s a new start. A fresh start. And you can rid yourself of all the
rest.
For me,
this year is largely about letting go. And not just letting go of my absolutely
enormous amount of virtually life altering mistakes. I want to let go of it all. I crave to be free of the worry and
anxiety that has followed me like a black dog all of my life. I need to be rid
of the chronic melancholy and sleeplessness that has incessantly plagued me.
And selfishly, I had no idea how poignant my personality could be sometimes until
my aunt said to me: Kate, you’re
brilliant; but you get too deep.
I feel like Dorothy and everything
just turned to color. –Don Draper
I was at
lunch with my mom the other day and all of a sudden, out of completely nowhere,
I was overcome with this crippling fear, this feeling of tension that ran
through my veins. We were talking about life, but it was nothing terribly
serious. She asked me about my internship, my current job, and why it was that
I wanted to do private practice instead of something else and suddenly, I
panicked. I started to tear up right at the table, right over my five cheese
ziti.
My chest started
to ache and I was in this panic mode, like suddenly all the walls were caving
in. I looked into her cocoa colored eyes and suddenly I was unsure of every
decision I had ever made. Did I lack conviction? I have spent so much time and
money learning but would I ever accomplish anything notable? Were the words
that I always took so long to formulate being lost on others? Had I left too
many things unsaid? Was I on the right path to really help people? Would any of
this even matter?
Then her
eyes welled up with tears and she pushed her own pasta around on her plate and
said, “Listen baby, it’s all going to work out. It’s like dad is always saying
to me: Everything always works out.”
Some
college students, they procrastinate because college can be so stressful.
Assignments pile up and seem to grow increasingly more difficult, leaving students
spread thin and exhausted. I mean, that’s why they gain the freshman fifteen
and drink until they can no longer stand up, right?
Some of us
eat because it’s comforting, distracting. Others of us, we drink because it’s
numbing and sinfully sweet. It assists us in forgetting. It warms us up and
helps us sleep. It tires us enough to read Helter Skelter, feel thankful that
we aren’t Charles Manson (or Vincent Bugliosi. Can you even imagine how that
case must have aged him? Read the book; you’ll be amazed. And thankful.), drain
what’s left of our whiskey, and pray for a full night’s sleep. (It’s been my
experience that melatonin is also enormously helpful.)
I only drink occasionally; to be
social and alleviate my shyness. –Edgar Allan Poe
Friends, I
am consumed by literally everything. I’m reluctant to open myself up to
incessant ridicule but I worry myself to tears. I have done it my whole life.
And even once I’ve resolved something, it’s really difficult for me to let it
go. I worry about the ways in which I’ve hurt people, things I’ve said that
might have been misconstrued, and words I’ve grumbled in anger that I can’t
take back.
I worry
about being on time, so I give myself an hour and a half to get ready and
expected drive time, plus fifteen extra minutes, in case of any trouble. I
worry about getting stranded without food and going into a diabetic coma, so I
always stash food in my purse just in case. I worry about what people think of
me, so I try not to talk too much until I really know them, lest I sound crazy.
I’m super neurotic about gaining weight, so I record everything and track all
my calories, carbs, and fat content. I’m scared my phone will die one die when
I really, really need it, so I constantly am killing all my used applications
and lowering the screen brightness. It is a truly exhausting life sometimes. (I’ve
also got this thing about salt. It’s such a frightening condiment. Do you have ANY
idea what that stuff does with you? I recommend never using it. Not even when
it’s called for in the recipe.)
Moral of the
Crazy: My ex used to say that I made coffee nervous. My adorably coined
neuroses used to drive that man child absolutely crazy and while I don’t put
much stock into what he thought or said, I know how I can be. (Especially then,
as it was a pretty weird and difficult time for me.)
Sometimes I
find that I can’t stick to what I said or planned for because I get myself so
worked up that I don’t even want to do it anymore. All this incessant “what if”
nonsense just totally takes over my life. A girlfriend of mine once labeled me a
“flake”, claiming that I couldn’t “commit to a long distance carrier, much less
an actual person”. Although I’m sure anyone who knows me can just imagine how a
comment like that made me feel (especially from someone I deemed a very close
friend), all I can do is say to myself: Oh
yeah, well look at me now.
I’ve been
through some really, really terrible things. I’ve been called really awful
names, I’ve been pushed around (literally and figuratively), I’ve been cheated
on, I’ve been the lesser choice, and I’ve been cast aside like I meant nothing.
And while I know better than all of that, I would be lying if I said it had no
effect on me. But I wake up every day and I keep trying. I spray myself with Burberry,
gloss my lashes with Dior, and I keep smiling because what else can I do? The
truth is that I have been stretched
to the limits but it’s alright now.
There are
times when I literally cannot function because I am so riddled with anxiety. I
am concerned with how I look, how I sound, what will happen when I have my
wisdom teeth taken out, and what people are thinking when they take me in. I’m
embarrassed about my past and while I want nothing more than to help people, I don’t want to admit why
I’m there. I don’t want to digress on how I got here. I don’t want them to know
where I’ve been.
One of my
most favorite songs is this relatively newer one by Jewel. It’s melodic and
sweet, almost like a lullaby, and it’s basically a story about how she can’t
sleep because she worries. In the very end, the part that always gets me misty,
she references her husband with the lyrics, I
get back in bed, turn off the TV; you say, “It’ll be alright baby, just wait
and see”. (Just an interesting side note: in the music video, the guy who
plays her husband actually IS her husband, which always makes me cry even
more.)
I’ve always
felt such a connection to those lyrics because that’s just me: a frazzled,
worried mess; well-dressed and half a wreck. My husband, who is always calm and
collected, will kiss my cheek and says, “It’ll be alright baby, just wait and
see.”
Nothing
would make me happier than to never be concerned but that’s not me. I would
give anything to drive somewhere and not worry about running out of gas,
getting a flat, or being late. I would love to say something to someone and
just be comfortable with it. I would love to be confident in every move I make.
I wish I could just do anything that doesn’t require a second thought.
But I can’t.
I try to
live by two mantras: Mind over matter
and If we stay calm, everything will be
alright. It’s not easy. But we’re
all a work in progress.
I guess,
with the New Year upon us, it is inspiring to start fresh, to strive for more
every day. I have heard it said that there’s always room for improvement; if
that’s true, when you’ve accomplished everything, what else do you have to live
for?
I hope the
New Year is a good one for you and I hope you remember why it is that you’re
here. Remember that we’re all on a journey of our own, we all have our own
ailments, and maybe in some ways, we’re all “flakes”. I hope you remember this
year that you are never alone and that we’re all worth fixing.
And remember
most importantly, that it will all be
alright.
We will either find a way or make
one. –Hannibal
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