I graduated with a Bachelor's Degree from Utah State University 1 year ago.
Here we have a biographical account of this last year of my life. Here's your chance to enter both my inner-psyche and my tangible/real life like never before. If you're not into that stuff, you can turn back now. If you are, buckle up.
Thesaurus.com describes "adventure" as a "risky or unexpected undertaking." The last year of my life has been the exact opposite of an adventure. It's been an all-out abstention from everything in the universe. Refraining from adventure requires a lot of comfort in your surroundings, as well as plenty of confusion and fear of the outside world.
I mean "the outside world" slightly more metaphorically than literally. I guess I've never been anywhere outside the North American Northwest, but when I listen to other people talk about their lives, I rarely understand what the hell they're talking about.
It's the rarest of occasions that I meet someone I connect with. I rarely have stuff in common with any person I meet. I've spent a good chunk of my life-- between childhood and adulthood-- wondering if there's anybody out there who's like me. I mean, I'm under the impression that plenty of people out there like me, and I like plenty of people, myself. But I'm talking about people who ARE LIKE me. Ya know? People who think like me, relatively. People with more than a couple similar interests. Where are these people?
I believe I have a slew of true friends, and yet I am incredibly distant from where I want to be and/or need to be. While at times this can be deeply depressing, I sometimes find it extraordinarily fascinating! Perhaps when people write all this cheesy crap on the internet about ADVENTURE, I could use a huge, literal dose of that. Perhaps a lot of this is creating adventure for myself; perhaps a little stumbling upon an opportunity and jumping on board. Perhaps some things are worth going for broke.
And now, the past year of my life. In 3 parts!
i. APPARENTLY I GRADUATED COLLEGE
The summer before my final semester at USU brought about a sense of immenent doom that would come back to haunt me. I was staring down the barrel of my own B.A. It's a sign of success; a rite of passage. It's a glorified accomplishment that requires a lot of time, money, and devotion to attain. I know it sounds like I'm ripping on the American education system, but hell, I went through with it. And I liked it!
I freaking loved being a college student. I loved the campus atmosphere and its mixing aesthetic of community with individuality. What I felt the summer before I graduated was the feeling that I would graduate and not know what to do with my life afterward. This turned out to be 100% correct.
These past 12 months have had me feeling lost on a consistent basis. I rarely (if ever) talk to people about my life or how I'm doing. It's an embarrassing topic. When I talk about my fun experiences and professional skills, I'm always referring to moments from the past. It's like my life has literally been on pause for an entire year.
When I graduated, I went straight home to Jerome ID and didn't know how long I'd live there for. I milked it out for 8 months. I was unemployed for 3 of those months. I wasn't sure what to tell people when they asked me about my life. So I moved back to Logan UT. I've been unemployed half my time here, mind you I've started working some random desk job now. I am still not sure what to tell people when they ask me about my life.
But, yeah, I got the Diploma. I got the student loan debt. I got the 10 semesters of college stories I could fall back on if I want to look smart or experienced. It used to be reality, now much of it seems like a dream; as though it never even happened. I wrote for the USU newspaper, I was a stage manager for a couple USU shows, I got a business minor... but it's as though I'm not willing to admit that I accomplished all this. Is there some kind of universal pedestal of prestige that comes with this stuff? Professional credentials? Was this practical at all? Does it still count if Scott E Hall does it? I've never fully grasped my mind around these things...
ii. APPARENTLY I HAVE GENERALIZED ANXIETY DISORDER
I say "apparently," but this is not something I learned this year. A doctor diagnosed me with Generalized Anxiety Disorder 7 years ago. It's been up-and-down throughout my life. What I've come to learn is that even on my best days, it's still an issue.
This statement will come off cheesy, but I am not my anxiety disorder. It's more like a backpack forever strapped on to me. I decide how heavy I want it to be. In a vicious cycle, I can make it heavier and it will keep painfully multiplying weight on its own. However, I could just subtract from it. Yeah, I guess it would still be on my back, but I'd feel light enough to travel freely without unnecessary self-loaded burdens.
Although I shouldn't be ashamed of my GAD, I still hate talking about it. Here are some reasons why:
-Shockingly, some people don't believe that mental disorders exist
-I feel like I'm starting some kinda "woe is me"-fest
-People overreact, making the situation even more uncomfortable
-That feeling like you're just talking to a brick wall
Anyways, I've learned a lot about my anxiety lately. I've started seeing a psychiatric counselor about a month ago. I think it helps because it gives me a chance to converse things I feel like I never get the chance to talk about; things that are actually on my mind.
So, if anxiety is essentially the same thing as worry, what do I worry about? You name it, I've worried about it. I mostly worry about what others think of me. I don't think I'm fake with people or I put on some facade to fit in with social groups... No, as opposed to acting like I'm someone else, I usually just don't give my whole self to people. Everyone gets pieces of me, and these are genuine real pieces of me, but nobody's getting the whole thing.
At times I think I'm crazy, but mostly I just assume that other people think I'm crazy. Here are some facts about me most people don't know:
-I've always wanted to be a musical performer, or songwriter or something
-I've never kissed anyone before
-I am strongly active in a church I don't always believe in
-I am not a Republican
Anyways, I understand if any of you guys think less of me after all this. It's frustrating how I imagine people being turned off by my actually expressing how I feel about real stuff. The least I can do is be nice to people and tell some jokes. It gets you lots of acquaintances, a Bachelor's Degree, and some random desk job. I guess I'm still not fully satisfied with my life. But making plans is scary and self-promotion is stupid.
However, these days I've been "coming to terms with" my GAD. I've made a choice to understand it, accept it, and deal with it. In order to do this, I must do a lot of stuff that I consider scary and stupid.
iii. APPARENTLY I GRADUATED INSTITUTE
So, I attend the LDS Institute of Religion sometimes. I usually don't even sign up for classes just in case I want to bail out mid-semester. Apparently people graduate from it, but people never talk about that. I've been going to a night class these last few months. I showed up last week for our final class, and... BEHOLD! Brother Lucherini gave me an envelop saying I had officially graduated from Institute. I never intended to do this and had no idea I was so close to accomplishing this, but apparently I graduated Institute.
I've been reading LDS talks and scriptures much more often lately. And I gotta admit, it's helpful. I mean, it's one of the weirdest traditionalist organizations someone could get born into, but it helps me.
Even at age 27, I-- much like a real-live emotional teenager-- don't feel like I belong anywhere. Like there's a lack of personal connection. My music buddies and my church buddies usually don't meet in the middle of that Venn Diagram. Things I want to talk about almost never get brought up in conversation. I'm sometimes convinced that it's really just me, folks. Perhaps I have no human capital. Or I'm not attractive. Or I have zero social skills. Or all of the above.
Last night I bought myself a glass bottle of root beer. I only drink soda once a year, so this was a big event. Unfortunately, it was the worst root beer I've had in my entire life ("Private Selection" brand; wouldn't recommend it). I usually reserve my annual soda-drinking ceremony for a night when I feel quite sad. I'll sip the root beer like it's alcohol and listen to Joni Mitchell or something. But last night, with this crappy root beer in my left hand, I stared at my ceiling and couldn't stop smiling... I can't lose.
I really can't. I can do whatever I want and I'll win because of the sole fact that I did those things. I caught a glimpse of both present + future victory. A beam of success and an opportunity for hope. No matter what I do, I can't lose. If I'm doing anything, be that for myself or for another person (especially the latter), I'm winning the game. That is, the game against my anxiety.
This was the most asinine year of my life because I did nothing.
My simple goal for next year is to do more things.
...(sigh) Or have an ADVENTURE, whatever...
