Tuesday, January 17, 2023

And Now

 Written in December 2022

Dear Molly,

It's been nine years and three months since you started this blog. It's been six months since you graduated college. It's been four since you turned twenty-four. And now?

Now you can say that your twenty-third year rivaled your fifteenth for most tumultuous of your young life.

Pippi (the best dog ever) died in December. It wasn't unexpected, but it was sudden. She was your family Hanukkah present in 2008. She'd had a tumor on her leg for over a year, and then it ruptured. 

On January 1st, you wished that 2022 would be brighter than 2021. January was fine.

In February, things started to fall apart. You got a new roommate who blew up at you when you tried to apologize for being messy. You were on edge, and planned a trip home for the first weekend of March.

On March 5th, Grandma Phyllis was admitted to the hospital. You flew back to San Jose on March 6th. On March 11th, Dad called you to say she was going downhill, and you booked the first flight home for the next day. Early in the morning on March 12th, she died. 

You flew back to San Jose. And then you broke down. Rehashing the details is just painful. You'll share about the middle part of the year when everything has been resolved.

So yeah. Now you have a driver's license, and two college degrees, and they mean diddly squat. You didn't have many job prospects because you don't have relevant work experience nor reliable transportation. 

The sad truth is that you're still not always proud of yourself. You still feel like you haven't done anything remarkable. You just spent six years of your life in limbo. Your mental health went down the toilet, then you got an AD/HD diagnosis, which broke you and mended your soul all at once. You've been reconciling with that diagnosis ever since.

The reason you feel that way is clear enough. At the end of the day, your college diploma is the same piece of paper everyone else got for graduating. Sure, yours has a lot of words on it, but a whole degree in music has only made your imposter syndrome worse.

It's been six years since you were singled out and made to feel special. And that's because as a college student, you weren't. It will always hurt that no matter what happens in the future, you finished your undergrad without getting any sort of special recognition in the form of a piece of paper suitable for framing. 

But more than that, you never got the feeling of being selected, chosen, and wanted by your peers. They love you in orchestra, but if you're thrown in a room with a bunch of music performance majors and/or the marching band, they don't always know what to make of you. "To know you is to love you", but they never seem to want to get to know the real you. They see you at your worst, and as you've been told, somehow can't grasp what you'll be like at your best. Big surprise, you still buckle when under external stress. It's caused you to suffer so much. You constantly feel judged. It's sad but logical that you've developed a fear of workplace bosses, given how more than once, they were looking to find fault. It's mind-boggling how they lose humanity in the process.

At least you have skating. It's the one thing in your life that has never let you down. The Rinks-Lakewood ICE is your happy place, no ifs, ands, or buts. Full stop. No question. This has been true since 2009. Since you were in fifth grade. Coming up on 14 years. Longer than it hasn't. And this will never change. 

You didn't realize the full extent of it until to you got to the rink complex in San Jose. It's state of the art, sure, but it's sterile. It's not that the people aren't nice, they're just not welcoming. Lakewood is lived in. Cue the corn and cheese, there's no place like home, there's no place like the rink, and there's no place like your home rink.

But you've buckled down, busted out, and broke through. You've paid your dues. The tides will have to turn eventually, right?

And maybe they did, just a little. You're working as a skate guard at Lakewood now, although you've been stuck with the cosmic skate shifts, which have never been your cup of tea.

May 2023

Today I heard the strangest, I heard the strangest song

A DJ a star away is playing it to turn us on

(Ay)


My heart started glowing, I feel it inside, it's flowing

I say I know, I know, I know, we're only human

I know, I know, I know how we're designed, yeah

Oh I know, I know, I know, we're only human

But from another planet

Still they call us humankind


Today I had the strangest feeling that I belong (belong)

(Ay)

Before, I was dying, I feel it inside, now I'm flying

I say I know, I know, I know, we're only human

I know, I know, I know how we're designed, yeah

Oh I know, I know, I know we're only human

But from another planet

Still they call us humankind


Before, I was dying. I feel it inside, now I'm flying

I know, I know, I know

We're only human

I know, I know, I know

How we're designed

Oh I know, I know, I know

We're only human

But we're capable of kindness

So they call us humankind