Today has been one of those days where if I was still seven years old I would have stomped down the hallway, slammed my door, opened it back up thrown out a stuffed animal, and then slammed the door again. Should anyone come looking for me I’d undoubtedly be slumped on my bed, arms tightly crossed against my body.
Luckily, I’m not seven years old anymore. Unluckily, I’m very passive aggressive, and my temper tantrum involved one exasperated sigh, some nonsense rambling to my roommate, and Oreos.
So what if I self-medicate with cookies. I never said I didn’t have the appetite of a seven year old.
The source of all this pent-up anger? I’m at one giant crossroads in my life, where two freight trains are approaching from different directions, and they’re about to collide. I am frustrated with myself, annoyed with people around me, and just want to tie up all my loose ends and get on with my life. I hate being dictated by “well it’s a job, and it pays bills,” and “everyone is feeling the crunch,” and “do you want a pint or a tall?”
That last one was thrown in there for good measure, and yeah- pun intended.
Five months ago I had a full-time job and was a college professor. On paper, I had it together. But I was falling apart at the seams. Now it seems that I have nothing.
Except a lot of debt.
Debt that was created by getting my Masters degree, an objective I set to get me away from home. But I preceeded to make mistake after mistake after mistake. Drink after drink, wrong friend after wrong friend. The only good to come of anything was my internship, an opportunity to make good for myself. Mere weeks later I was making mistakes that inevitably led to a lingering depression that began the slippery slope to many more mistakes.
I’ve been in a downward spiral since college graduation. Come to think of it, it began spring semester, senior year– with a sip (more like gulp) of booze, attention from boys, and a side of baseball. A recipe for disaster.
For the most part, I’ve been a late developer of sorts. Most of my monumental life experiences have come years after my peers have gone through the same experiences. Usually, I have such high expectations for these experiences that they generally become catastrophic. My high school life was spent doing homework, playing sports, volunteering, and having a part-time job. In college I had two jobs, an internship, and a full course load. My first dabble with alcohol started at a frat party and ended at the hospital, and I didn’t touch the sauce again until my 21st birthday. Needless to say, I grew up very sheltered, I was always on the outskirts looking in.
Life after college for me should have been career, career, career- as it is for most post-grad 22 year-olds. Instead, my thought process was life after college meant having a life. Student loan debt should have been solely an investment in a Masters degree, but instead the debt symbolized freedom to live the life I felt I’d been deprived of in college and high school.
Roommates. Boyfriends. Parties. Irresponsibility. Something my peers had been educated in for the past four years while my nose had been stuck in books.
Where am I now? College has been over for three years. I have nothing to show for it. I’m competing for jobs with kids, kids, that graduated three weeks ago.
Peers my age are in lasting relationships, some are married, and some are even having children. I haven’t had a guy take me serious enough to want a relationship. I generally force it on them until they call me crazy, and say “but I thought you were the I-just-want-to-have-fun-type,” and move on- only to begin a serious relationship with the very next girl. (Apparently there’s a fine-line between not wanting anything serious, but still wanting a committed relationship- whatever happened to taking things slow?)
Told you I’m years behind my peers.
What happened to me? I like to believe that I’m a very old-fashioned, well mannered, well-educated person. I say please and thank you, I don’t swear, and I treat everyone exactly how I would like to be treated (even if it’s not reciprocated).
The truth is, I worked so hard to create a life that I thought I should be having, that I took away the life I wanted. I became what people wanted me to be, and stripped myself of the person I was. Now, I run in circles of friends that I detest because of their insidious lifestyles, yet I can’t seem to find the escape route from these negative influences. I have fallen victim to “you are the friends you keep,” and have a reputation for being the type of person I am not. California was supposed to be my escape route, and here I am. With the same crowd. With the same platinum blonde hair. The same routine Friday nights at the same bars with the same drinks.
I fell victim to the grass is always greener syndrome. I was the loner that wanted the popularity. Now I have the popularity, and I want the obscurity.
I am such a disappointment to myself.
Those two freight trains I mentioned earlier are going to collide, and hopefully soon. With one comes what I’m searching for in my career– success: a culmination of hard-work, networking, and recognition. With the other comes a social network: a culmination of educated, cultured, passionate individuals. I am a Yuppie at heart.
I am finished thinking I’m being deprived of life experiences just because my life doesn’t follow the same path of my peers or every television plot line. I am no longer going to contort my values to be a part of a crowd that outwardly “has it all.” Especially when I know firsthand that they generally don’t have it all, unless all is a smorgasbord of issues. I am no longer going to be a disappointment to myself- to the girl who shouldn’t hide the fact that she prefers Candide to Lipstick Jungle, to the girl that prefers a day of beach volleyball to two hours on a treadmill, to the girl that prefers a diet coke to a vodka soda, to the girl who prefers Target to , and to the girl that prefers a double-double from In-N-Out to tofu stirfry.
My life will not be dictated by how many pounds I weigh, how many grams of sugar I consume, or how much money I can spend. And when I do something– whether its splurge on a pair of shoes, read Bitter is the New Black, treat myself to a sushi dinner, or complete the 30-day Shred- I’m doing so because I want to, because I want a reprieve from the norm, not because it’s going to earn me brownie points with the cool crowd. For that matter, the cool crowd wouldn’t even eat a brownie. Whereas I eat the whole pan.
Maybe California is the escape route, after all. My clean slate. I have no friends, just roommates. I have no career, just a bartending gig. I have (a lot of) lessons learned.
“Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.” ~Carl Bard, Scottish Theologian
