Ah, those post-colligate Quarterlife crisis good ol’ days…
So, I was backing up old computer files (yes, I am a computer geek) and ran across this epitaph of sorts from my post-collegiate, quarterlife crisis days…funny what a year does….
Why is it that we, as a society, must have a 9-to-5 job in order to feel validated? Having graduated from one of the top universities in the world, why do I feel compelled to jump right into the workforce of cubicles and deadlines right off the bat? I feel as though society has placed this curse upon recent grads, who feel more lost than ever nowadays. I have come back home to a world I used to love, when it was the only universe I ever knew…and now that this bubble of adolence is no longer, now that I have experienced as much of the “real world” as I could in 5 years of collegiate adventure that took me from Miami to London to Paris to LA and back again, now that I am back at home with Mom and Dad, this time without a curfew, I dare say that my world has become simplified. And that terrifies me.
I have never been one to be alone. In high school, once I found my “niche” , I was so scared of losing people around me that I clung onto them long after they had gone on to bigger and better things. I would write, I would call, but soon the unanswered voicemails and deleted emails all became too real…we had grown up, or at least grown apart. And what was left was this void in my life. The one that used to be full of social engagements and fun was now left in silence. I was never one to be alone. And now that I am, I’m terrified. Not terrified that I will end up alone, no, that insecurity left me when I decided boys were too much of a commitment for even the serial monogamist me. I was terrified to be left to my own devices, to be left to my own analytical voice, for when I was left alone, life was not only contemplated, it was analyzed and broken down into tiny little pieces until my emotions broke down and I ended up (again) crying into my pillow. Yes, it seemed that being alone meant I was lonely, and meant that my life was somehow meaningless…even though I knew it wasn’t, I did have a flair for the dramatics.
When I first returned from LA, I was estatic. No more Hollywood drama, no more dealing with fake people just to get ahead. No more roommates…just no more drama. Period. Little did I know that drama is just another word for life.
Everything seemed to fall into place. I had a job that I was so good at, I could do it in my sleep. (and often did, considering this college grad had not seen 8 o’clock since freshman math class). I was living at home with parents I had actually missed, whose lives I had lost track of in my quest of colleigate adventure. I even had three of the closest friends I think I have ever had…two exboyfriends and one best friend that had been with me since high school. Life, as they say, seemed perfect. But perfect is just a façade, and I knew perfection couldn’t last long. The façade of a life I used to know came crashing down. A forced leave at work led to a nervous breakdown that had both boy friends running from me, and even my best friend was running…not from me, but to her boyfriend in Texas. Now, not only did I have no friends to run to, I also had no job to comfort me, and the only solace I found was my bed. Because although people say there is a fine line between reality and dreams, I found it to be a huge gaping hole.
I started to forget what I was good at. I felt like I would never find a job. No one would hire me. It didn’t matter that I had a degree from a top communication school, not to mention a minor degree in film production. No one would give me the time of day. I would have to be a secretary for the rest of my life. You would think that with $100,000 toward higher education, I could find a guaranteed job. Problem was, all my contacts were in LA, and I was not about to move back. Especially since I had no finances to get there. The dream of living in LA soon became the nightmare, and the mere thought of returning to that place right now made me sick. But had I let the dream go too fast? Again, the empty days turned me into a shy, introverted person who never experienced the outside, only to walk her dog in the morning. Life seemed doomed. Life seemed confusing. Life seemed an utter disappointment.
But as I sit here, still unemployed by the 9-to-5 term, I am somewhat coming into the realization that not even a job will make me happy right now. The solace that has come with 3 months of unemployment has taught me everything about myself. How I handle time alone (I tend to fill it with books and films). How I adjust to the unknown (as in I don’t adjust well). How I actually had the motivation and power to start my own business that has kept me out of debt for the last few weeks. Time alone with my thoughts has taught me to listen to my intuition, but not to let it rule my life. How I tend to create drama when there is nothing dramatic going on in my life, and how being able to sit outside on a perfect Chicago summer day will soon be few and far between. Being alone, with no one but my thoughts and my parents has taught me to enjoy this time, because as much as society defines us by what our job is, or who we work for, it cannot define us as a person. We must do that for ourselves.
And as I sit out on my porch, listening to the birds chirp, watching my dogs sleep in the sun, it makes me wonder what else life has in store for me, and it makes me realize that jobs will come and go, friends will be few and far between, but these days to myself, this time to figure out who I am, are the ones to be cherished. And for once, I’m not so terrified of the unknown.
