Unless of course there is absolutely nothing to discuss. Oh hai, 2010.
In 2009 I predicted that 2010 would "be my year." That was not true by any extent. 2010 is a year I've described and hopefully will continue to describe as the single most static year of my life. As I said on Facebook, this is as close as you can get to describing a year as if it were an episode of Seinfeld. No hugging, no learning. 2009 (and 2008, before I purged all pre-tour posts) were marked by profound personal growth that led me in a giant circle of faux-self-discovery to where I am today, which is essentially the same thing that I was before high school. Basically, I ended this year the same way it began, which was the same way that I was before those damn hormones decided to kick in: a hypercritical lonely nerd. The only difference is that now I've gained a little bit of self-awareness. Maybe it's not even that. Maybe high school is about exposing you to all the different types of people and teaching how to deal with them, whereas college exists as nothing more than a really expensive platform to show you what you want to do for a living.
Aside from a lack of growth, 2010 was also static in that nothing happened to me this entire year. Nothing. I started off the year lamenting the fact that I didn't have any very close relationships with people outside of my own family. I guess I improved on that a bit after graduating, maybe. I don't know. Romance? I'm also aware of how unwise it is to post this information here, but I've definitely failed about three times over (quite literally) with entering a romantic relationship. Hoo boy. All three fucking cases involved getting turned down by incredible women not because of disinterest in dating me but because I was too late to ask these women out before they went off with other, universally more attractive guys than me. In every fucking case. I told myself not to be bitter about these things, and I'm not actually bitter toward anybody in particular. It's bitterness directed toward impossibly horrible timing and probability (three times - I couldn't make this up) as well the fact that being turned down for no reason other than "not in the cards for you, buddy" allows zero room for any sort of personal growth, because I'm not doing anything inherently wrong. Which is my main problem with 2010.
Music? I didn't play any this year. Well, I did. But I was apathetic about all of it, even whilst playing it. Safe to say that passion was deftly killed by boredom. I also lost my mind a few times. The evidence is in the unpublished drafts in this god damn blog. Maybe that was also because of boredom. Who knows? The brain's gotta keep itself occupied. Fortunately yesterday I got to play marimba for the first time since May. For five minutes, mind you, but still enough to be successful. It felt great.
Politics? Normally this wouldn't be anything worth noting, but I've just lost all faith in the American political system due to corruption in the process of electing our representatives (campaigns can now be funded by multinational corporations without any sort of cap on the amount campaigns can be given, and campaigns don't have to disclose the identity of their donors), which is also probably part of the reason for the huge swing in favor of extreme conservative candidates with the election. If we knew who these corporations were, I guarantee that they'd back the campaigns that promise less government restriction on commercial/environmental/whatever activities. Need evidence of how much corruption was already in place before the election? Rep. Joe Barton of Texas makes a public apology to BP after Obama urged them (well, demanded) to set up a fund for families whose income was damaged by the big oil spill this summer. Are you fucking kidding me? If you're a puppet for environmental-assfucking energy companies, at least make sure you keep that little tidbit a secret, you retarded asshole. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. There's also the BP oil spill, carbon emissions reduction failing, the newly GOP-controlled house setting up a massive probe to investigate the "fraud that is global warming", denying 9/11 first responders healthcare coverage, extending tax cuts for the richest people in the country despite an enormous deficit, denying extending unemployment until the aforementioned tax cuts were extended, shooting down a gender-centric pay equity bill (basically just for shits and giggles, no good reason), and most of all just being a bunch of assholes who are completely out of touch with the people they're governing.
College? Don't really know very many people there. Got a few close contacts. It's going well, grade-wise. One time I was told how much we'd all changed since entering college. So, so wrong. The reality is that extrinsic change isn't necessarily determinant of intrinsic change. Such is the case with college. You're given a blank slate, but when you're an open book is there any opportunity to change yourself? Not really. Well, I tried to give myself a bit of an ego. Whether or not I'm better off as a result of that attempted change is unclear.
I'm a fairly pessimistic person, you see. But I'm sort of realizing - though I can't be sure, the idea only came to me two days ago - that my problem stems from a fundamental lack of understanding of the nature of mental illness. Growing up I had problems with insomnia and anxiety (both of which I've overcome, insomnia especially), and I was put in therapy through the ages of twelve through thirteen. My therapist concluded that I was fine and sent me off without a diagnosis. I had serious issues. Being told that insane amounts of mental agony on a daily basis is completely normal is not a good way to get a kid to grow up happy. And since I did get over them alright within two or three years, I concluded that therapy and self-help books and all that are bullshit (which I still think they are) and that drugs aren't necessary. Rejected the notion that I have faulty brain chemistry. Attributed all my fits of anxiety and depression to whatever the circumstances were at the time. I never wanted to think I was crazy. Hell, I probably am crazy. Mental illness is both a precursor and a prerequisite to craziness. Am I mentally ill? I damn sure don't ever want to think it, but with each day that my emotions zip around like a seismograph in Southern California - unpredictably and occasionally ferociously - there's a stronger and stronger case building for it. The only problem is that I feel that if I can't diagnose it, nobody else can. Which stems from having either a massive ego or from being ignorant. Mental illnesses are, by nature, unpredictable and detrimental patterns of thought - but whatever it is that's eating me isn't really capable in my mind of being lumped with the generic clinical depression or bipolar disorder. This fact also doesn't help my whole argument for clinical psychology being a load of shit. I'm not really sure what to do about this. I don't really have the shame to pick myself up and get "help" or whatever it is they call having people put words in your mouth to get you to feel better these days. And frankly I don't want to have to be told that I'm fine again and that this is normal life for everybody. This fucking sucks. All change that matters is intrinsic and that doesn't happen when all extrinsic circumstances do are keep you from changing rather than facilitating it. But if therapy and/or drugs are what it takes, whatever, I guess. New year's resolution: Come to terms with this.
The main problem is that I don't even know what I want anymore. Everything is out of my control right now - essentially, all I can do to make my life better is try to overwhelm myself to the point where my only concerns are outside of the realm of emotion and critical thinking. Make myself into a god damn robot until the world catches up to me. Or else keep thinking about until I figure out what I'm doing wrong and catch up with the rest of the world.
Whatever. Oh, 2011, how I long for your sweet embrace.
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