I Hate Retrospectives
There is nothing more frustrating than living in the past. You vividly break apart every action and realize there is nothing you can do to change it.
Each mistake magnifies, every positive softens.
Every sentence starts with “If only…” whether it ends with “done that differently,” or “recognized it then.”
The past does nothing but challenge us to not repeat it.
So here I sit, the first day of 2016, glad that 2015 is over and hoping, just hoping with every optimistic-filled drop of blood, that 2016 will be better.
My 2015 started with me sitting stoned on a couch recovering from spinal surgery. A surgery I didn’t know I needed until the doctor said, “Come with me if you want to live.”
The funny thing is that argument wasn’t strong enough for me to decide to do it. The curiosity of major surgery got me over the line.
We talk about “learning how to live,” and Facebook is awash with friends that are figuring it out, then forgetting how, then figuring it out again. Tons of platitudes, pithy quotes and proclamations. Similes, beaches and hearts bounded across my feed. I sat there on the couch, stoned out of my brain on prescription medicines, and weighed the value of my life.
It wasn’t the first time. Friends know that I think of suicide daily. It’s a side effect of my bipolar. Sometimes I am serious (at least 12 times in 2015), but mostly, I am not (more than 300 in 2015). I do think it makes me more depressed than I should be, as the weight of coming up with reasons to live every day can be pressure on the soul.
How does one smile when all they are living for is others?
2015 was tough for me, and I am unsure if it came with lessons. We hope that after every difficult step, there is a booming voice in our heads that say “Here is what you learned!”
For me, I learned that shitty stuff happens. It’s how we react to that crap that matters we are told, but I realized that I am a fighter, so there is no doubt that I will rebound; what became more important — what actually mattered, was how others reacted when I asked for help.
Here is what I learned:
People help.
Not all people.
But those that do, matter, and the rest? Well, they can go fuck themselves.
The other thing I learned while on that couch for months? I am no longer invincible. That the end is closer than the beginning. I lived the beginning of my life hard. Broken bones and hearts. Relationships squandered, party times which were less than zero, and a lot of professional success.
But everything I had planned for myself? zip. nada.
So choices: adjust and change; or shut the fuck up and continue. Or not. Fucking brain.
My first adjustment? Live a Year of Boring. Turned out to be awesome.
I made a major change in February. I joined Amazon as an individual contributor. No longer a boss, or a BAWSE. Just a dude.
Never expected to love it enough to attract friends to join me on the adventure. Check box on positive experience.
Then I got sick. Really sick. Two hospitals on two continents. A procedure. Diagnosis? Eh. You will be alright.
In reality, still in pain, but like most pain, we can learn to live with it. I just added it to the back pain, pain in the neck, my feet and broken brain.
And then Billie. Sigh. Still can’t talk about it. My sister made a donation in her name for Christmas to the Boulder Humane Society where I got her. I broken down sobbing. Same for when my vet donated to UC Davis (where I went to school) Vet School (where she went to school), and the donation that 500 Startups made (some of the deepest hearts in venture land).
2015 was a hard year for me. I loved and lost. I lost my love. I forgot how to believe in the one person who has always stood by me — myself. I learned that existential nihilistic belief — everything is dying and life has no value — has more truth than I ever allowed.
2015 had its bright spots for sure, but I have never been beaten down as hard, for as long, as I was in 2015. As each day ended, it became more and more difficult to be excited about the upcoming beginning.
But I did it. I ended the year with a clearer vision/goal for the four quadrants of my life: professional, personal, physical and psychological.
And as 2016 begins, I have no expectations for it. As any time based measure, it too will pass. But I have Three Hopes.
I hope that I will believe enough in the potential of my future to remove the roadblock of health to exploring it.
I hope that I will find a partner because I am able to articulate honesty both with me, and with her.
I hope that I will know the difference between want and need, and learn that difference is the definition of happiness.
I hate retrospectives. Yesterdays are set in stone; tomorrows in clay. I am looking forward to a 2016 filled with tomorrows.