Quarterlife Crisis: Reminiscing: A Double-Edged Sword

Oh, golden Michael.  This is probably my favorite music video of all time.  Michael Jackson’s “Remember the Time”

Vodpod videos no longer available.

I wasn’t exactly sure how to classify this post.  Should it go under Romantic Cynic, Friendly Drama, Family Values, or something entirely different?  We can reminisce about just about anything, any type of circumstance or relationship.  Sure, romantic may have a physical aspect to remember but friendly could have equally strong inside jokes and family dominating scents or visuals.  All in all, I couldn’t decide and decided it’s actually a catchall issue, a part of my current quarterlife crisis.

The last few months have been eventful.  Good, bad and ugly.  There are parts about the summer to 2009 that I’d care to forget and others I hope I never do.  So much of this summer centered around the past; people I knew, places I’d gone, decisions I’d made (or avoided), things I’d said and done.  It’s always nice when karma comes back to visit.  I’ve done so many good and bad things in my life that I’m never quite sure if I care for the visits.  “Oh Jo’van, I’m back.  Because you [fill in the blank] three years ago, [fill in the blank] is going to happen to you now.”  Thanks, karma.  Thanks a lot.

Anyway, with karma making itself entirely too comfortable on my couch, I’ve spent unnecessary hours reminiscing; when things were good, when my life sucked more than it does now (or at least it felt that way at the time), when someone made me feel loved, when someone (or the same person) made me feel pathetic, when I had friends forever and new enemies everyday, when I liked the way I looked, when I couldn’t stand to look in the mirror, when I was smart, when I felt stupid.  It always amazes me how much I remember and how much of it I wish I didn’t.

There is nothing wrong with reminiscing.  It’s always good to remember where the person that you are today came from.  Who made you think that would be okay, or this was wrong?  When did you decide to do this and swore to never do that again?  Who made you feel happiest and who made you feel less than?  When did you first taste this or last like to do that?  However, the issue I’ve begun to raise with reminiscing is how much is stings regardless.

Instead of finding lasting joy in remembering the “good” things/times, I find myself almost bitter I’m not experiencing them now.  And instead of being happy I’m not in the midst of the “bad” things/time now, I just find myself reliving the pain of those times again.  Things have a wonderful opportunity to continue to get worse from here.  Inviting those memories into a already [fill in the blank] mind can actually not be healing.  For right now, it’s just further frustrating.

This is not to say that I find no joy in my memories.  I have so many wonderful things to be happy about, proud of, etc,  I just think that for the time being I need to focus on my uncertain, shaky future rather than my defined, unchanging past.  I can only imagine what I’ll feel about this time in my life 3, 6, 14 years from now.  Everyone is of course defined by their past but who’s to say you can’t custom-design the next revised definition?  I can only spend so much time remembering who I was.  I need to know who I am right now, the good, the bad and the ugly.  Everything else is just a good story to tell, if and when you’re up to it.

Reminiscing can be a double-edged sword and I’m not the biggest fan of bleeding,

Jo’van

Office Appropriate: Laid Off…Now What?

So it looks like yesterday’s post  “Strong Personality in a Weak Economy” was a bit premature or entirely too late.  Either way, I no longer have to worry about whether my strong personality will be a benefit or a liability in the office.  I no longer have an office to worry about at all.  Today, I was officially laid off.  Nice. 🙂

I signed yesterday’s post “Fingers crossed she’ll be able to make it another day/week/month/year without a meeting with HR”.  Well, that didn’t exactly work all that well in my favor this morning.  Sparing the non-entertaining details, I was laid off due to “the numbers.”  Being analytical and structural, I can’t argue with the numbers. There might be a particular interpretation of those numbers that I take issue with….but whatever.  I was given the requisite speeches and released to figure out this new chapter of my work life: packing up my office.

Why do/did I have so much stuff?  If I’d thought about it, I would’ve taken a picture to share.  I understand that I’ve been there for just over three years and that I’m a pack rat but really?  Packing up took entirely too long, especially considering the people coming in an out to cry and say goodbye.  I was given the option to pack up that day or later in the week if I didn’t want to “be around everyone.”  Being the difficult, strong person I like to (pretend to) be, I decided against the “punk” route and packed up in plain view of everyone, well with my door closed…

The mixture of stifled, indignant tears, released, shameless tears, two margaritas at lunch and 104 degree weather has caused this obnoxious headache.  The crying headache is one of the worst feelings I can experience.  Aside from the pain itself, it reminds me of my weakness.  I personally HATE crying, especially in public.  No one needs to see that level of vulnerability.  I’d rather (and have) cry in the middle of a large airport terminal surrounded by hundreds of strangers than in front of a good friend.  Well, I had a little less control of my emotions today than I would’ve liked and I quickly bypassed my quota of zero people seeing my cry.  I’m not ashamed or anything, I’m just a little disappointed in that lose of control.  Oh well, what can I do about it now?

The outpouring of support from (most) people has been heartwarming and appreciated.  But being laid off just sucks and there’s nothing that I can say about it that hasn’t already been said or anything that they can tell me that’s going to make me feel better about losing my job, my position, my source of income, my stability, my career.  Plus, I’m still dealing with this.  It’s less than 12 hours old.  I’m sure I’ll be elated, depressed, excited, scared, relieved, and anxious all at some point.  At this point, however, I’m just numb.  I’m going through the motions, or at least what I imagine the motions to be.  Who to tell, how to tell them, how to console them, how to be strong, how to be okay with being weak.  It’s all a process I wasn’t planning on but have to fully accept now.  And I have a pretty awe inspiring example to live up to.  I don’t know if I can do it as gracefully as Robertoe but I’ll do my best….next week. 🙂

Thankful for severance pay,

Jo’van

Quarterlife Crisis: Quarterlife Crisis or Just Boredom?

I’m going to try to add songs to the next few posts.  Please enjoy Mariah Carey’s “Honey” for this post.  This video and sound marked the beginning of her “Quarterlife Crisis/Transition/Freedom”.  We’re still just waiting for her to recover…

I’ve officially been a 25 year old for a week now.  25 – It just sounds so grown up.  Not old.  I hope to have many, many decades to go but something about 25 just sounds like I should have my shit together by now.  I’ve been asked how I feel about being 25.  As with most birthdays, the hardest part that I can imagine will be remembering the new number when asked how old I am.  All I can say is that I feel just about the same.  Let me clarify: the actual birthday meant little.  I will have to admit though that this “time in my life” has had its impact.

Some would call what I’m experiencing a “quarterlife crisis”.  Considering the term is so new and popular right now, I won’t argue the point.  (I am, however, reading the original book published on the term in 2001.  I may change my opinion upon completion.)  Either way, instead of a crisis, I’d like to think I’m going through a “transition period”.  I’m transitioning from the 42 year old in a 24 year old’s body to a probably around 35 year old in a 25 year old’s body.  (I hope to break even around 27.)  I love my life but am bored by most of it at the same time.  It’s safe and comfortable but often uninspired and generally blase.  I’m the faithful employee, loyal friend and independent daughter.  But where’s the fun in that?  I need a little drama (preferably not self-created), some excitement, positive stress, butterflies.

My mother and grandmother came into town for my birthday last week.  It was wonderful.  My mother joked about me never really being a “child”.  Even at 8, I was a tiny adult, equip with strong opinions and the ability to intelligibly argue.  It’s funny to think about that until you realize it’s probably true.  Now, of course, I was a child and did childish things.  But I’ve always acted as if I “knew better”.  My mother even said that I wasn’t going through a quarterlife crisis.  We were both just going through our midlife crises at the same time.  (That math could make things very confusing.)  I’ve always been called an “old soul”.  I didn’t really do most of the dumb, excusable teenage/early twenties things.  There was always a plan, a goal and an ability to see past the temporary intrigue.  And while there’s nothing overly wrong with that, there is something  a little sad about it.  If I’m living like I’m 40 now, what’ll be interesting about actually being 40?  I’ve joked (but was secretly terrified) that I’d regress about that time and look and/or act like a Ricki Lake guest.  I need to act like I’m in my twenties while I’m still technically in my twenties.  And I’m already half way done with that.

I’m not quite sure what “acting my age” looks like but I’m taking baby steps.  Things like going out more than once  a month (I don’t have anyone waiting on me and as long as I can make it to work the next day, what’s the harm?), embracing shorts again (I’ve been avoiding them for years but my thighs are only going to grow exponentially from this point), giving into impulses (probably a full post on that later), taking care of my body (I’m still not excited about organic foods but there’s nothing wrong with paying a little more attention to what I’m putting into my body or working out consistently enough to actually see a difference), or being social simply for the sake of being social (fighting looks of boredom or indifference in public settings).

Maybe all of this is just a phase and I’ll revert to being 40 again soon.  If so, I hope I can cram 15 years worth of “being young” into whatever time I have left to enjoy this phase.

Consider this part one of my quarterlife crisis series.

Jo’van

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