A Rant About Plates

This last week was really tough. This month has been tough. I’m at the point in this whole thing where it gets hard. And I have thought a lot about what I would do if and when it becomes too hard and no longer something I can handle. And I was terrified because I didn’t see any solution I would be happy with.

To keep specifics out, I talked to someone today who I should have talked to a long time ago about my current stresses. This person didn’t tell me anything especially new, but because it came from someone who knows what they’re doing and has been in my shoes, I now have the confidence to express my upcoming thoughts with greater certainty. So here’s what I have to say:

We all want to be super successful. I would certainly believe that if you had a choice to be the best or the worst at something you value, I would expect you to say best before worst. And I know you know that there is some 5 year old who’s at the level you could only hope to be at in 20 more years right this very second. It sucks, it really does. And I do think that in such a competitive, cut throat, dog-eat-dog world, moving at your own pace is a laughable matter.

I have come to the realization recently that I can’t handle as much as I thought I could. I realized that it takes me longer to grasp things than it does a lot of other people. And this year, I have been harshly ridiculed for not being able to take what’s dished out. And though pressure sometimes causes you to reset your low standards, this wasn’t an encouraging push. What I experienced more than once in the past few months was kind of like a stomp.

I began to examine the saying “I have too much on my plate.” Though there’s been no shortage of stress eating since I’ve returned to school, that’s  not what I’m talking about. I see my to-do list and my self-perception as “my plate”. Like a literal plate of food, it can be filled with good things that supplement and nourish you, as well as things that you probably shouldn’t be partaking in. It’s quite normal to have a lot of work. After high school, most people go get a job or complete school work at a university. Then you also have social pressures that go on the plate. Time with friends, making appearances at social gatherings, conducting one’s self in public settings, and appearance anxieties. It has become a problem (and will remain a problem for me) that my work pressures and hurdles are directly tied to my self worth. “Oh I got a bad grade…I hope my parents aren’t too mad” has transformed into “I performed terribly on <insert task here>, is this really something I should be doing? Am I really any good at this? Is this worth working towards? What are you doing with your life? Don’t you know you’re wasting precious time? Precious resources? Do you know how many people would do so much better if they had the chance to stand where you stand? This is unhealthy as is.

I had heard stories about people I’m close to juggling all sorts of things in their lives- work, relationships, sleep (yeah we need sleep too I guess). I thought “well if ___can work while taking 6 credits of summer classes, I can too”. I couldn’t. I thought “well if ____can just finish this up really quick and then go hang out with friends, I can too.” I couldn’t. I thought “well if ___ can take a 17 credit hour semester with some of the hardest college courses people of my major take while still having a social life, I can too.” And I couldn’t.

I don’t think I’ll ever get better at this. And the solution, as I thought once before, is not to try and turn myself into a genius, virtuoso, or expert multi-tasker by doing what everyone else does and not getting the same results. The solution is to ditch the people in your life who convince you that what you’re doing isn’t enough. The solution is to rid your life of the people who will always tell you that you “could have done better”. The solution is to not leave room for those who say your best is “half ass”. Surround yourself with people who praise you for giving your all even if it sucked. Keep close those who will understand what your going through, and not dismiss you even if the hurdle you’re jumping is quite short. We all want to be those who hit the ground running, but we often forget that baby steps are better than not leaving the house.

I really do take for granted the amazing support system I have. My friends and roommates who will talk with me about stuff that is bothering me, my professors, my parents who will sit on the phone with me as I walk campus at night in tears and even my sister who will take the time to text me and remind me to put my trust in God, the only one who can truly give me the rest and renewal I so desperately need.

There’s no shame in needing praise to feel like you’ve accomplished something and needing extra in tough times. There’s no shame in taking a step back and really examining the quality of your friendships and the roles these people play in your life. There’s no shame in traveling at walking speed. “A for effort” is totally a thing. Because if we’re being real, everyone has their own plate and we can consume as much or as little, as fast or as slow as we want. And I think I could do without those who choose to hate the way I eat. Those fries will go to my thighs, not yours.

Rant over.

Dysfunctional Poetry

I used to wonder why we couldn’t just call it something

I wondered why you took my time

and I took yours

and it meant nothing more than that.

Why would you speak of me like I was fine china

but speak to me like the neighbor down the street?

I wondered why your shell was so hard to crack.

And when it cracked, why I found that the inside didn’t love me any better.

I was patient and waited.

I waited for change of heart I was never going to witness.

 

I wondered why all my confidants had plus ones.

I wondered why that wasn’t my case.

It’s because of me.

Physically.

Mentally.

Emotionally.

Spiritually.

I wanted it so badly.

I wanted that so much it hurt.

But because of who I am, that will never be.

You see, I’m a nagging, contradictory voice for simplicity.

I don’t want your hand to hold.

I don’t want your flowery, poetic language

or your painfully delicate actions.

I don’t want the uneasiness

I don’t want the stress.

I don’t want the opinions from the people who claim they know us.

 

So at the same time,

why should it have to be called something?

Why can’t we just talk about the snow and the cold?

Why can’t we just sit and breathe the same air in that tiny square room?

Why can’t I call you a name

or look your way

or touch your arm.

Why do I have to be thinking anything about it?

Why can’t I tell you that I hate you?

Why can’t I tell you I love you without a fuss erupting from the crowd?

Why can’t be grateful for you and your company?

Why do we have to do something or be something?

Why can’t we just be?

Why can’t we just be people?

 

Maybe that’s still possible

but I know that’s why I am here.

That’s why I stand with no one by my side.

Life is so complicated, and I feel it.

Oh, but people are wonderfully simple.

I guess I’m just too human to handle.

A Bratty First World Problem Post

[I am not enduring any crazy hardship. I am not terminally ill. I am getting a pretty nice quality post-secondary education. Besides the inevitable college kid future debt, I’m not in any monetary bind. I have two parents, married, under the same roof, supportive and level headed. I am not starving, I could stand to lose some weight actually. I don’t feel like I’m in any danger, unafraid to walk the streets in my town at night. I have friends who genuinely care about me, people who I can rely on. So what could I possibly have to complain about? I personally hate when people who are far better off than I am complain about their life when there are people who have it worse than the both of us combined. I’m not going to lie and say that I’m not setting up to do just that. So I’m taking a moment to be a brat and express one of my smallish, first world annoyances]

You may know what they do. You may know where they live or what they drive. You may know how much is in their bank account or the dollar amount on their paycheck. You may know their friends and their social circles. You may know their religious and political beliefs. You may know what makes them happy and what pushes them to their breaking point. But you don’t know them. Unless you are told, you don’t know what’s in the darkest corners of their heart. You don’t know the things you never bothered to ask them about. You don’t know who or what is on their mind when they attempt to slip into a deep sleep at night. You don’t know the things that happen behind closed doors.

It’s wrong to assume that because their church utilizes a strict set of principles that they abide by all of them, and if it doesn’t, that they don’t have any moral and spiritual standards they desperately cling to. It’s wrong to assume that because they have a nice car, house, or higher level education that they aren’t thousands of dollars in debt, or if they don’t, that they couldn’t afford it. It’s wrong to assume that because they belong to the _____ political party, they accept the stereotypical viewpoint on the issue of ________. It is wrong to assume that, because they have the relationship everyone hopes for, that they are as content with it as they seem, and if they aren’t dating or actively pursuing someone that they don’t love someone so much it hurts. It’s wrong to assume that, because they act out dramatically, that they aren’t just doing it to get the attention they crave, and if they are perfectly put together, that anxiety and paranoia doesn’t consume them at a frequency that would make anyone uncomfortable.

And in seeming absolutely, ridiculously contradictory, you can’t assume that you know nothing. You can’t assume that because they live in a nicer neighborhood, that you don’t own the same size house. You can’t assume that because they have a family of 4 with two married parents, that your single parent doesn’t provide the love and support of two, and conversely, if there are two, that it doesn’t feel like just one. You can’t assume that because they are going through a hard time, that yours is invalid by comparison.

It may not be realized, how little you know someone, but you may be unaware of how much you do. While everyone’s experiences are unique to them, it doesn’t have to mean that entirely. And though everyone is not graded on the same scale, we all have experienced discomfort. We have all known stress, hard work, pain, sickness, inadequacy, and total embarrassment. Rejection, ridicule and resentment. We have all known hilarity, contentment, and a moment of pure joy. So, it’s also wrong to assume that, because our experiences are all unique, that you and I can’t understand, that we can’t relate or empathize. And if that’s what’s assumed, I don’t believe we’ve been given enough credit. I don’t know all of you, you don’t know all of me, and the congruency and dissimilarity of our lives will forever be unknown. So let us save the assumptions.

But Maybe We’re Minuscule

February 28th, 2014:

Sometimes change is a funny thing. It can be positive or negative or even slightly bittersweet. The majority of the time the future and what’s to come looks unbelievably foggy, but it’s amazing, hindsight is 20/20. People are funny. It’s crazy how someone’s view on another individual begins to become your own if you let it. Sometimes you forget how important it is to hear both sides of a story when you are so in love with the first one you heard. Sometimes you hope for no reason. Hope that someone will finally see you the way you want them to. And sometimes you’re glad you did, when you hope that someone who seems dead set against you will turn around. Hope that performance and efficiency will increase after a trial run. Hope that you start seeing results of hard work and good intentions.

You can’t be surprised when the one who has always been right is just that, still right. You learn to trust those people. You can’t be surprised when a free spirit makes a sudden, irrational seeming decision. You want to be mad, but you can’t. You want to know why, but you can’t. But though it’s sudden, it’s not shocking. And what you deem as foolishness, could make perfect sense, had you been there.

You can’t be surprised when your supporters are still supporting you, even if it’s in ways you never thought they would. Sometimes the distance reminds you of the significance of your supporters. And reminds your supporters of the significance of you. Sometimes when you think of them, they are thinking of you too. Maybe they realized that you sharing your life with them was something special. Maybe they want to let you steer for a while. Maybe your ideas were never bad, they just needed your supporter’s consideration. Maybe you were blinded by teenage angst. Maybe they were behind you the whole time.

There is a certain beautiful quality about time. Time will pass and puzzle pieces can seem to change their shape. Sometimes they are left just as they were, just sitting, waiting for someone to put them together again. Maybe that piece was the only missing part of your perfect whole. Or maybe there is still a gap or two, but it’s to the point where you can see the picture and you can’t help but be pleased. Maybe there will always be gaps. Maybe if the perfect scenario happened too quickly, it was too good to be true. Because if you rushed into things, there’s a good chance you messed up somewhere.

Sometimes you win and lose simultaneously. Does that mean you’re happy that you won? Or sad because you’ve found something’s missing. What if you’re fighting two battles at once? Do you engage in both, running around and wearing yourself out? Or do you drop one and chose the most important? Have you gotten that far yet, far enough to put things in order of importance? Sometimes you have to go with the one that has to be dealt with first. Because though time can work with us to heal and bring clarity, it can also be our worst enemy. A limited amount of time can mean a complete mess. A limited amount of time to come up with the correct answer or a limited amount of time to say things you can’t allow to go unsaid for a length of time you aren’t even sure of.

There’s always going to be bad in whatever you have. And you shouldn’t be denied the joy because it’s not perfect. Sometimes you get a big head. But other times you realize that the most important person in your life right now is you. You would be stupid to act differently. Sometimes the truth isn’t something you want to be a part of. But it’s always freeing and always worth it. You can’t apologize for painting an accurate picture, only if you do so with a disheveled and dirty heart. Do what you do to right the wrongs, with the best of intentions. And anything you get after would have happened anyway.

Being right once doesn’t mean that you’re right forever. You can get it all and become greedy over time. You were good and were told the same, but that doesn’t prevent you from going overboard. Sometimes, in stepping back, you did too much. Maybe you were right, but got lost in your own thoughts. Maybe you were always the bad guy. Sometimes bitterness gets the best of you. Sometimes holding something in does permanent damage that requires more fixing than you anticipated. Sometimes you can be damaged without a good enough reason as anyone else. Maybe you’re damaged because you have absolutely no excuse to not be completely perfect.

Sometimes being clueless is paralyzing. Other times, not knowing your right from your left makes things interesting. Maybe you end up figuring it out right when it seems like it’s too late. You find the perfect combination just before the next roll of the dice and the scattering of all that you have gathered. Sometimes it feels like it’s an adventure to be so left in the dark. You have to hope that some day you’ll have the puzzle pieces put together in the way that allows you to oversee the bulk of the imperfections. Maybe that means returning to your roots or starting new. Maybe a bit of both. There are no rules. Don’t discard the guidance of others because, as you scramble among the pieces, someone else is looking in. They have a bird’s eye view. But don’t put yourself at the mercy of others. Just listening could have gotten you in trouble in the first place. And one’s assistance is purely based on their own experiences.

There may not be an answer at all. What you see could have been tampered with more than you could imagine. Not everything you see is real. But maybe all of everything can be pushed aside because of one simple, maybe mindless thought. Maybe we’re minuscule. Maybe we’re just a speck of dust, on a speck of dust, on a speck of dust. Maybe we’re a snapshot in time, an instant, an episode, a moment. Maybe none of it matters in the slightest.