I can feel myself growing up. I'm not yet sure how to feel about that. When I turned twenty a few months ago I was so against being a "grown up" and I was so upset that I could no longer claim to be just "a stupid teenager." What I'm now trying to come to terms with is the fact that one can grow up and be a mature human being without becoming a "grown up." At least, I hope that is a fact.
This post and the last post are both products of the fact that I started seeing a therapist. The funny thing is, at this point, I've only been there once. My next appointment is next week. I hope that by starting to pinpoint the reasons I see the world the way I do will help me cope with that. I don't want to change that, necessarily, I just want to cope. I think that's all people can really do.
But I digress.
I grew up when I was in fifth grade or so, around the time my parents got divorced. The separation was not handled well (a fact that I identified about a year ago), and I was placed in the position of picking up the slack my parents left. When I was at dad's house I played the role of mom. When I was at mom's house I played dad. To this day I feel that my brother regards me as a parent figure a little bit. I've made an effort to become friends with him but I think I'll always be an "authority" to him.
I grew up a little more when I switched from the public school system to a private school for my freshman year of high school. I remember feeling oddly out of place because I had never before been in a private school. I also remember feeling a little uncomfortable with just how many white people were around me. My grade school, when I went there, had an almost seventy percent Asian (and mostly Hmong) student body. My middle school was also very diverse. I think the fact that in high school I found one of the few people from a rougher neighborhood and became best friends with him is telling.
When I got to college I was told, by many people, that I don't act my age. I can't even begin to count the number of times I've been mistaken for being older than I am. It's flattering, yes, but at a certain point I just wish I could be a kid forever. I've met a number of people who are very mature and intelligent, but still kids at heart. I love being around these people because when I'm with them I don't feel old. They get my energy moving and I finally start feeling like I'm getting back some of the childhood that I missed by forcing myself to grow up to cope with my parents needing me to be grown up.
What I've been trying (and probably failing) to get at with this post is this: I want to be content with growing up because I know I'll still keep my curiosity and sense of play. At the very least I want to be a grown up who won't try to snuff out the kid I find in the people I meet. And especially the children I meet. They deserve their childhood.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
We were born to do extraordinary things
I've struggled with depression for my entire life, more or less. I've gone through some incredibly dark times, and some beautiful times as well. Recently, due to an array of reasons, some that I can pinpoint and others that I can not, I've been struggling again. I say this not to ask for pity, but simply because it is the truth. That's always how I've felt about depression. It is a truth that I must deal with. I don’t know why I must, but I must.
When I think of depression it is not a scientific thing. Reason tells me that it is a chemical imbalance, it can be treated, et cetera, ad infinitum. The way I view it, however, is as darkness, and more than that, as darkness manifested in the shape of a beast. I struggle with this, sword held high, armor, war cries and so forth.
I have a tattoo on my right hand on the web of skin between thumb and forefinger. I got this for many reasons, but mostly because it reminds me of hope. My good friend Adam sent me a letter last summer with this drawn on the outside:
It reminds me of a sunrise. The cross is the sun with three rays coming from it and the word hope is the horizon. Additionally, a more detailed sunrise is drawn on the inside. A few months later I found a similar image on the back of the vinyl packaging of a record called f#a#[infinity] by the band Godspeed You! Black Emperor. Adam and our friend Ben had turned me onto this band. Ben even has the title of that album tattooed on his right collarbone. I thought that it would make a very pretty and simple tattoo and a tribute to my friends in general. For Adam, because he drew the picture; for Ben, because he also has an image from the same record drawn permanently on his body; For Andy (and now Louis, too), because it's on my hand, clearly visible when I write. For all of my friends, because it gives me hope, as they do. I ended up using the image from the record as the image for my tattoo.
I thought long and hard before doing it. Indeed, the idea obsessed me for about two weeks prior to actually doing it. I decided that hope is something I will always need, that everyone needs, and since this simple cross with three dashes around it reminds me of that, I would do it. After getting it done someone pointed out to me that from another angle it looks like a sword. [Here's a picture of it taken moments after its completion. I can see all of the images I have described in the tattoo, especially in this picture.]
How fitting! Thought I, that this tribute to my friends, my brothers and sisters, my fellow knights, would look like a sword. I see us all as knights with minds, pens, ink and paper as weapons, each other as shields, our own passion as armor. We all have our dragons to fight. Mine, as I mentioned, is this beast, this darkness: my depression. However, that's not the only foe we fight. Every day, to me, is a battle or a quest. Why do anything if you do not do it boldly?
I've only recently begun to pinpoint the fact that this is how I view the world. It's coming to me slowly. Reading some of the anarchist literature I have has informed some of my ideas, but so has the reading I've been doing for my lit class, English Literature before 1650. I'm rather fond of this world view. Epic battles, dragons to slay, armor… It's all rather romantic and, as a poet, I like it a lot.
When I think of depression it is not a scientific thing. Reason tells me that it is a chemical imbalance, it can be treated, et cetera, ad infinitum. The way I view it, however, is as darkness, and more than that, as darkness manifested in the shape of a beast. I struggle with this, sword held high, armor, war cries and so forth.
I have a tattoo on my right hand on the web of skin between thumb and forefinger. I got this for many reasons, but mostly because it reminds me of hope. My good friend Adam sent me a letter last summer with this drawn on the outside:
It reminds me of a sunrise. The cross is the sun with three rays coming from it and the word hope is the horizon. Additionally, a more detailed sunrise is drawn on the inside. A few months later I found a similar image on the back of the vinyl packaging of a record called f#a#[infinity] by the band Godspeed You! Black Emperor. Adam and our friend Ben had turned me onto this band. Ben even has the title of that album tattooed on his right collarbone. I thought that it would make a very pretty and simple tattoo and a tribute to my friends in general. For Adam, because he drew the picture; for Ben, because he also has an image from the same record drawn permanently on his body; For Andy (and now Louis, too), because it's on my hand, clearly visible when I write. For all of my friends, because it gives me hope, as they do. I ended up using the image from the record as the image for my tattoo.I thought long and hard before doing it. Indeed, the idea obsessed me for about two weeks prior to actually doing it. I decided that hope is something I will always need, that everyone needs, and since this simple cross with three dashes around it reminds me of that, I would do it. After getting it done someone pointed out to me that from another angle it looks like a sword. [Here's a picture of it taken moments after its completion. I can see all of the images I have described in the tattoo, especially in this picture.]
How fitting! Thought I, that this tribute to my friends, my brothers and sisters, my fellow knights, would look like a sword. I see us all as knights with minds, pens, ink and paper as weapons, each other as shields, our own passion as armor. We all have our dragons to fight. Mine, as I mentioned, is this beast, this darkness: my depression. However, that's not the only foe we fight. Every day, to me, is a battle or a quest. Why do anything if you do not do it boldly?I've only recently begun to pinpoint the fact that this is how I view the world. It's coming to me slowly. Reading some of the anarchist literature I have has informed some of my ideas, but so has the reading I've been doing for my lit class, English Literature before 1650. I'm rather fond of this world view. Epic battles, dragons to slay, armor… It's all rather romantic and, as a poet, I like it a lot.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
How to bring a college campus to a screetching halt
A funny thing happened today: it rained. Water. From the sky. No really!
On Tuesday and Thursday mornings I have a running and jogging class so I woke up a few minutes beforehand to put on some gym shorts and shoes and I walked down to the athletic center on campus. It was sprinkling a little bit but we ran outside regardless. It was actually rather refreshing. Shortly after taking my shower the power went out for about thirty seconds. No big deal. I went about the rest of my day doing what I normally would do: class, homework, food, et cetera.
Mid-afternoon rolled around and it was still raining on and off, and generally just wet and depressing. Fine, I was in a pretty good mood today and it the weather hadn’t really effected me at all. I knew it was going to get worse, but I was rather looking forward to a big storm.
At 3.17 PM (according to the email timestamp), the Area Coordinator of my dorm (whom I spoke of in Bad for the eyes, but good for something) sent a message out saying that due to issues caused by the morning power outage, the campus power would need to be shut off for anywhere from twenty minutes, to two hours. She didn’t know when it would happen.
Fine. I can deal with that. I was doing laundry at the time and I decided not to put the rest of it in, just in case the power went out while my clothes were still in either the washing machine or the dryer. I saved all of my documents on my computer, shut it down and unplugged it just to be on the safe side. I wasn’t too worried, but I want this computer to last for as long as possible. I settled in to do some reading.
At about five o’clock this evening I went downstairs with my roommate, Rossko, to get my laundry out of the dryer and put his in. We were walking out of the laundry room when the lights went out and every electrical device powered down. I’ll admit, I rather enjoy that sound. Or rather, the lack of sound. And now I’m getting to the meat of this post (I know, I’m longwinded).
As I said, it was about five o’clock when the power went out, and just getting to be the dinner hour. The rain had started to come down much harder and I still had some reading to do. So I folded my laundry and read for awhile before Rossko and I decided to head over to our student commons to see if the Caf was open. We didn’t have much hope that it would be. We were right.
What we found was confusion and chaos. It was rather disgusting. There were hundreds, literally, hundreds of students milling about waiting for the power to come back on and allow any of the three food service places in our student commons to open back up. All I could do was laugh. People were on phones frantically calling people (and, in many cases, texting in between the calls - also, I hate that the word “text” is now a verb) to let them know not to come to the Caf, “for God’s sake, find food somewhere else!” We called to order a pizza because, well, we were hungry. There was a one to two hour wait. We decided to walk down to our friend’s car and head into town to get some food as we all had things to do and couldn’t sit around waiting to eat. That was an adventure in and of itself, but that's not the point.
That half an hour or so in the student commons reiterated to me just how naïve many of the people on my campus have been their entire lives. They had no idea how to react to the sudden lack of things that have always been there for them. Things like food and electricity that really aren’t accessible in other countries. I began walking up to people and telling them things like “This is what the apocalypse will be like,” and, “You know, in other countries this is reality.”
I know that I am just as guilty of taking for granted things like food, shelter, electricity, et cetera, but I’d like to think that I handled this situation with grace. I settled in to do things that required no electricity and was prepared to be outside in the, gasp, rain. Sure, I was a little inconvenienced, but the hundreds of students in our commons were completely lost. I’m still not sure whether this is funny or heartbreakingly depressing.
On Tuesday and Thursday mornings I have a running and jogging class so I woke up a few minutes beforehand to put on some gym shorts and shoes and I walked down to the athletic center on campus. It was sprinkling a little bit but we ran outside regardless. It was actually rather refreshing. Shortly after taking my shower the power went out for about thirty seconds. No big deal. I went about the rest of my day doing what I normally would do: class, homework, food, et cetera.
Mid-afternoon rolled around and it was still raining on and off, and generally just wet and depressing. Fine, I was in a pretty good mood today and it the weather hadn’t really effected me at all. I knew it was going to get worse, but I was rather looking forward to a big storm.
At 3.17 PM (according to the email timestamp), the Area Coordinator of my dorm (whom I spoke of in Bad for the eyes, but good for something) sent a message out saying that due to issues caused by the morning power outage, the campus power would need to be shut off for anywhere from twenty minutes, to two hours. She didn’t know when it would happen.
Fine. I can deal with that. I was doing laundry at the time and I decided not to put the rest of it in, just in case the power went out while my clothes were still in either the washing machine or the dryer. I saved all of my documents on my computer, shut it down and unplugged it just to be on the safe side. I wasn’t too worried, but I want this computer to last for as long as possible. I settled in to do some reading.
At about five o’clock this evening I went downstairs with my roommate, Rossko, to get my laundry out of the dryer and put his in. We were walking out of the laundry room when the lights went out and every electrical device powered down. I’ll admit, I rather enjoy that sound. Or rather, the lack of sound. And now I’m getting to the meat of this post (I know, I’m longwinded).
As I said, it was about five o’clock when the power went out, and just getting to be the dinner hour. The rain had started to come down much harder and I still had some reading to do. So I folded my laundry and read for awhile before Rossko and I decided to head over to our student commons to see if the Caf was open. We didn’t have much hope that it would be. We were right.
What we found was confusion and chaos. It was rather disgusting. There were hundreds, literally, hundreds of students milling about waiting for the power to come back on and allow any of the three food service places in our student commons to open back up. All I could do was laugh. People were on phones frantically calling people (and, in many cases, texting in between the calls - also, I hate that the word “text” is now a verb) to let them know not to come to the Caf, “for God’s sake, find food somewhere else!” We called to order a pizza because, well, we were hungry. There was a one to two hour wait. We decided to walk down to our friend’s car and head into town to get some food as we all had things to do and couldn’t sit around waiting to eat. That was an adventure in and of itself, but that's not the point.
That half an hour or so in the student commons reiterated to me just how naïve many of the people on my campus have been their entire lives. They had no idea how to react to the sudden lack of things that have always been there for them. Things like food and electricity that really aren’t accessible in other countries. I began walking up to people and telling them things like “This is what the apocalypse will be like,” and, “You know, in other countries this is reality.”
I know that I am just as guilty of taking for granted things like food, shelter, electricity, et cetera, but I’d like to think that I handled this situation with grace. I settled in to do things that required no electricity and was prepared to be outside in the, gasp, rain. Sure, I was a little inconvenienced, but the hundreds of students in our commons were completely lost. I’m still not sure whether this is funny or heartbreakingly depressing.
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