Sometimes, I think my 21-year old self would see my current, 28-year old self and stroke out. I feel like I am so much different than I was back then - most notably, more secure in my own identity. I wasn't crazy back then (at least not relative to the people around me), but I did some stupid things. Said some stupid words. Dressed in some stupid outfits. Dated some stupid guys.
When I decided that I would no longer attempt to make even a part-time living as a dancer, something inside of me clicked. It was perhaps an imperceptible shift to those around me, but as soon as I immersed myself in the "real" world, I was given a taste of security and confidence that was unlike anything I had previously experienced. I was no longer worried about keeping my hair just the right way, keeping my body just the right size, and keeping up the image that I was totally, 100% confident. It was the beginning of a quarterlife struggle between my left and right brains.
The balance that I have now is the hard-won result of many years of this bizarre, internal pushing and pulling - regretting some decisions, then fighting off a wave of self-hatred for giving in to the "what ifs." I am not the type of person who makes a decision and immediately moves forward as if there was no other option to be had. I hem, I haw, I write endless pro/con lists. I analyze options to the point of driving those around me to madness. I feel I'm building up an arsenal of logic to justify what may ultimately become an emotional decision. I try to get my heart and my head on the same page, but sometimes fail miserably.
All of this to say that, in short, I have a hard time being happy. I find it unnatural - those people who constantly see the glass as half-full, the people who have a light, pithy answer to the question, "How are you?" (I usually think too literally and answer in some form of overly melodramatic complaint then feel bad later about being such a buzzkill) I am very rarely satisfied with what I have, what I feel, etc. It's not that I want more, necessarily, but rather something different. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually, just something different.
Getting back to the point - change. What would my wild, backless-silver-tank-top-wearing, year 2000 self say to my corporate drone, wants-to-make-pillow-covers-on-friday-night-instead-of-going-out-drinking-with-friends, year 2008 self? And if I knew what that conversation would sound like, would I even care?
Would Year 2000 Jamie be concerned about my weight? Would she wonder why I seem obsessed with learning how to quilt? Would she scream, "YOU'RE TURNING INTO YOUR MOTHER!" at the top of her lungs? Maybe Year 2008 Jamie is just having a hard time letting go of useless, emotional baggage. Maybe Year 2000 Jamie had it right all along - just stop thinking and be happy, dammit.
I guess I'm just wishing that it was as simple as "making the right decisions for yourself, and good things like happiness will come to you." What I wouldn't give right now for a really good scapegoat - something on which I could blame everything. All the neuroses, all the melodrama...but I've had a happy, healthy life with zero parent issues. No abuse. No violence. I am, by most definitions, blessed and lucky.
It seems silly to think of "be happy with your life" as something to include in my lengthy to-do list for the week. Maybe all I need is an occasional reminder of how good I have it...a reminder to look around and notice that I have all I need (and then some)...a kick in the pants, basically. Maybe.
Damn this blog and all this THINKING. All this thought is really weighing me down. Is anyone still even reading this stupid thing? If so, got any tips on how to just relax and let it all shake out?
When I decided that I would no longer attempt to make even a part-time living as a dancer, something inside of me clicked. It was perhaps an imperceptible shift to those around me, but as soon as I immersed myself in the "real" world, I was given a taste of security and confidence that was unlike anything I had previously experienced. I was no longer worried about keeping my hair just the right way, keeping my body just the right size, and keeping up the image that I was totally, 100% confident. It was the beginning of a quarterlife struggle between my left and right brains.
The balance that I have now is the hard-won result of many years of this bizarre, internal pushing and pulling - regretting some decisions, then fighting off a wave of self-hatred for giving in to the "what ifs." I am not the type of person who makes a decision and immediately moves forward as if there was no other option to be had. I hem, I haw, I write endless pro/con lists. I analyze options to the point of driving those around me to madness. I feel I'm building up an arsenal of logic to justify what may ultimately become an emotional decision. I try to get my heart and my head on the same page, but sometimes fail miserably.
All of this to say that, in short, I have a hard time being happy. I find it unnatural - those people who constantly see the glass as half-full, the people who have a light, pithy answer to the question, "How are you?" (I usually think too literally and answer in some form of overly melodramatic complaint then feel bad later about being such a buzzkill) I am very rarely satisfied with what I have, what I feel, etc. It's not that I want more, necessarily, but rather something different. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually, just something different.
Getting back to the point - change. What would my wild, backless-silver-tank-top-wearing, year 2000 self say to my corporate drone, wants-to-make-pillow-covers-on-friday-night-instead-of-going-out-drinking-with-friends, year 2008 self? And if I knew what that conversation would sound like, would I even care?
Would Year 2000 Jamie be concerned about my weight? Would she wonder why I seem obsessed with learning how to quilt? Would she scream, "YOU'RE TURNING INTO YOUR MOTHER!" at the top of her lungs? Maybe Year 2008 Jamie is just having a hard time letting go of useless, emotional baggage. Maybe Year 2000 Jamie had it right all along - just stop thinking and be happy, dammit.
I guess I'm just wishing that it was as simple as "making the right decisions for yourself, and good things like happiness will come to you." What I wouldn't give right now for a really good scapegoat - something on which I could blame everything. All the neuroses, all the melodrama...but I've had a happy, healthy life with zero parent issues. No abuse. No violence. I am, by most definitions, blessed and lucky.
It seems silly to think of "be happy with your life" as something to include in my lengthy to-do list for the week. Maybe all I need is an occasional reminder of how good I have it...a reminder to look around and notice that I have all I need (and then some)...a kick in the pants, basically. Maybe.
Damn this blog and all this THINKING. All this thought is really weighing me down. Is anyone still even reading this stupid thing? If so, got any tips on how to just relax and let it all shake out?
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