So.. I quit my job last month. I done did it. And I finished making my decision. I think I made the right choice, but I won't know - ever, right? b/c I'll never actually know what it would have been like if I made another.
I read a book Dark Matter while I was in Japan, which was about a guy who is a scientist, and explores the "multiverse" in modern day. He gave up his research for his family and lived a normal life, but his alternate self from a parallel reality in which he gave up his family for his research, comes back and switches lives with him (sort of). Basically about how the choices we make shape who we become, blah blah blah.
It wasn't the best book, but that concept was pretty intriguing to me: the "would have" and "could have"s. My old boss once told me, that in some way, every decision you make is the best you could have made at that time. Only in hindsight does anyone feel regret over their decision (hindsight's always 20/20 right?). I always thought it was a bit naive to think like that, but it resonated with me because it was such a positive mindset to dealing with the fear of a possibly terrible outcome. #noregretz
That's how I feel about my decision to go to Japan. This was my first real solo vacation - I've travelled alone before but usually related to work. To really be in a different country, knowing I have nobody to come back home to, or get lunch with the next day to talk about my adventures - it was liberating and lonely. I remember singing to myself at the park because the silence was overwhelming. Also I think I low-key got pretty buzzed off one highball. There were definitely places where I wondered - this would be really great to experience with someone else.
And then there were moments when I was glad to be alone. Getting lost in Shimokitazawa in the rain, eating Soba near Jindai-ji temple after getting lost again, drinking a beer at a beer garden at golden hour as I decided to fuck the rest of my itinerary and go back to the hotel. Waiting only 40 mins as opposed to 2.5 hours for sushi b/c I was alone. I'm glad I got to do this solo, and I'm glad I chose this city for my solo trip. I don't think I learned anything new about myself except that I really loved the shrines and temples more than the big cities. Although I don't know if that's anything new, or more a confirmation of something I assumed about myself. Also, I'm actually not that bad at navigating. I was kind of hoping to have some grand self-actualization/realization/awakening there, but it's not something I was expecting, so I'm not disappointed. I guess that's one of those things that comes when you least expect it.
So first day jitters are real. I have yet to decide on an outfit. No pep talk either. I kind of wish I had another week of fun-employement, but I don't think that would dissolve my anxiety. I'm really trying to focus on appreciating and embracing change, and letting go of fear.. but it's one thing to set that intention in a yoga class, and another to practice it in real life. I'm trying to narrow down what my biggest fear is - making new friends? realizing I've made the wrong decision? hating the job? I think it is learning that I don't actually have imposter syndrome, and that I am indeed an imposter. I am afraid of being myself, and not being good enough as myself, and therefore becoming an imposter of sorts. And then being revealed as the imposter I am. See? It never ends in this brain.
Do I put on a female empowering anthem, and do the power stance in the mirror while I repeat "you are amazing"? No, if anything, that'd make me feel more like an imposter. Am I going to go through 3 more sections of your SQL bootcamp on Udemy to come in 100% prepared? No, who am I?
Will I watch Terrace House until 2am and not pack my bag for my orientation starting at 8am?
Probably. Gotta be myself, right?
Sunday, July 21, 2019
Wednesday, June 19, 2019
hello old friend
Steven: Do you think watching too much Bravo makes you stupider
Yes. Yes it does.
How is it possible to forget this thing existed? This place to publish all my teenage angst. And fuck, I had so. much. angst. How is it possible to forget something that probably meant so much to me? Or did it? It must have. Even if I didn't know it at the time, I remember how much I relished in writing my feelings. Writing literally everything. 10 year ago me would also not use the word "literally" all the fucking time. But that's what happens when you start watching too much trash TV. And you literally become the people on your TV screen who you watch to feel better about yourself, only to find out that you are becoming those people. And you are becoming those people because you chose this life of escapism in reality.
I have this theory that I as I grew older, and became "adult", I realized I could no longer live in fantasy like I did my first ~22 years of life. So I chose to escape to reality TV, because at least that was real. And it's only now that I'm almost 30, I wonder, is that really even real? Or is reality what I wrote in this beautiful blog 10 years ago - contemplating existence, getting in philosophical arguments with myself over human nature, writing Shakespearean sonnets, quoting fucking Robert Frost and Thomas Hobbes, trying so hard to understand myself better, and hating myself for never getting there. I wish I can go back and tell 18 year old me - it's okay. that part still hasn't changed. They just have a phrase for it now: Imposter Syndrome.
My intention in yoga the other day was: You can always lose what you have, but you'll never lose what you are. I don't know why that spoke to me, so much that I had to tell Jacqueline about it that night, but it spoke to me. And I don't think I really understood why until she unearthed this gem. Because going through my past, I can't help but feel nostalgic for who I was. This tortured, dramatic, self-loathing soul who loved the world so much she didn't know how she fit into it. And it reminds me, that same girl is still in me - is still me. I missed you.
Last night, I quit my job.
Tomorrow, I have a 4 hour interview I should really be preparing for.
Friday, I have a big decision to make.
Tonight, I am reading blog posts from 2009, remembering how I was so angry, so cultured, so introspective... but how I never stopped watching too much TV, playing too many games, making too many promises to myself I'd never keep. So yes. hello old friend. it's you, it's always been you, and it literallyyyyyyyy still is you.
Yes. Yes it does.
How is it possible to forget this thing existed? This place to publish all my teenage angst. And fuck, I had so. much. angst. How is it possible to forget something that probably meant so much to me? Or did it? It must have. Even if I didn't know it at the time, I remember how much I relished in writing my feelings. Writing literally everything. 10 year ago me would also not use the word "literally" all the fucking time. But that's what happens when you start watching too much trash TV. And you literally become the people on your TV screen who you watch to feel better about yourself, only to find out that you are becoming those people. And you are becoming those people because you chose this life of escapism in reality.
I have this theory that I as I grew older, and became "adult", I realized I could no longer live in fantasy like I did my first ~22 years of life. So I chose to escape to reality TV, because at least that was real. And it's only now that I'm almost 30, I wonder, is that really even real? Or is reality what I wrote in this beautiful blog 10 years ago - contemplating existence, getting in philosophical arguments with myself over human nature, writing Shakespearean sonnets, quoting fucking Robert Frost and Thomas Hobbes, trying so hard to understand myself better, and hating myself for never getting there. I wish I can go back and tell 18 year old me - it's okay. that part still hasn't changed. They just have a phrase for it now: Imposter Syndrome.
My intention in yoga the other day was: You can always lose what you have, but you'll never lose what you are. I don't know why that spoke to me, so much that I had to tell Jacqueline about it that night, but it spoke to me. And I don't think I really understood why until she unearthed this gem. Because going through my past, I can't help but feel nostalgic for who I was. This tortured, dramatic, self-loathing soul who loved the world so much she didn't know how she fit into it. And it reminds me, that same girl is still in me - is still me. I missed you.
Last night, I quit my job.
Tomorrow, I have a 4 hour interview I should really be preparing for.
Friday, I have a big decision to make.
Tonight, I am reading blog posts from 2009, remembering how I was so angry, so cultured, so introspective... but how I never stopped watching too much TV, playing too many games, making too many promises to myself I'd never keep. So yes. hello old friend. it's you, it's always been you, and it literallyyyyyyyy still is you.
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