Well, my fears have been realized. My posts, specifically “Quarter Life Crisis” and “Time,” have caused some readers to become upset and concerned about my mental health. I knew the risks of publishing such content and decided to do it anyway (hint: see the description for this category of blog posts).
I am very grateful to have wonderful family and friends that care deeply for me. However, it is a bit bothersome that I sometimes feel I need to argue with others to convince them that my mental health is not cause for concern. See specifically the following excerpts from “Quarter Life Crisis:”
“Before closing, I want to make it clear that I am not unhappy. My existential crisis and feelings toward my life are not sad. Of course, they also aren’t happy. In fact, they’re actually nothing at all”
and
“P.S. For those of you who like to tell others what to do, I do not need to “get help/talk to someone/see a therapist.” I am fully capable of acknowledging, accepting, and processing the above without engaging in behavior that is harmful to myself or others. Thank you for your concern.”
Apparently, these statements were disregarded by some readers who decided to draw their own conclusions. Furthermore, feeling that I have to filter or hide my thoughts for fear of upsetting others can actually be burdensome. The aforementioned is also detrimental to authenticity.
Since I was very young, I have always had instances of feeling like the odd man out. It actually still happens pretty regularly (I am not isolated or lonely or depressed, I’m just making a statement!). Some of the stories from my younger days that attest to this fact are the following (which my mom loves reminding me of).
At age 4/5, I attended a birthday party at a friend’s house and Barney was there to play with us and take pictures. I asked my mom why Barney had a zipper. This still bothers her.
At age 6/7, I was driving home from my uncle’s house in Rochester with my family and I asked my parents how Santa could make it around the world in one night when it took us an hour and a half to get back from Rochester. I don’t remember receiving a satisfactory answer.
At some point in my youth, I apparently told my mom I thought Halloween was stupid because I didn’t see the point of dressing up as something and going around asking people for candy.
Ironically, as a kid, you could almost always find me running around in a Batman costume. I was so into my alter ego that one time, my grandma introduced me to a priest at her local parish, but I refused respond when the priest spoke to me. After, my grandma asked why I had been so rude. Apparently, I was mad that she hadn’t introduced me as Bruce Wayne.
Yeah, I was a real pisser.
Today, I suppose my personality quirks manifest themselves in other ways. For instance, I have largely abandoned the non-philosophical aspects of the religion I was raised believing (dunking infants in water to save them from eternal damnation is just too much of a stretch for me), I don’t understand the concept of marriage in modern times (let me put a ring on your finger and merge our finances so you’ll never leave me!), and above all else, I hate social formalities, including small talk.
In my opinion, small talk is the worst thing that has ever been invented. I have no idea why two (or more) individuals are obligated to generate vibrations in the air with their vocal chords just to not feel awkward. Like, we both know this conversation is pointless and you’re probably going to forget we even met by tomorrow, so why do we need to talk to each other? I would rather just sit in silence and let my mind engage in some sort of productive thinking rather than make noises at someone. When people think of hell, they usually think of fire and brimstone and some guy with horns. I think of cocktail parties.
Anyway, I digress.
Of course, my personality quirks are also the likely cause of the thoughts I have and the questions I ask, such as “what is the meaning of life?” “why are we here?” “how do I make the most of the time I have?”
As mentioned in “Quarter Life Crisis,” many people waltz through life without ever questioning anything, let alone the meaning of life. One reader’s response to my posts attests to this claim, as they stated: “Quarter Life Crisis even made me question why I’m happy to be alive” (yikes).
Why did I write the article anyway? Why would I put something out there that I knew was so against the grain and would likely rub many people the wrong way? Why didn’t I just shut up, appease everyone, and keep my thoughts to myself? Ordinarily, I would respond by saying appeasement isn’t my M.O. and going against the grain makes life exponentially more exciting, but this time, I will give another answer that is a bit more justifying.
I decided to write Quarter Life Crisis and all my other posts because I hope someone will read them and feel less alone. For example, I hope there’s someone out there who is being raised in a strict religious environment but doesn’t necessarily buy into the beliefs that have been forced upon him, and that he will read “Going to Church” and understand that it’s OK to not think what everyone else thinks or tells you to think. I hope there’s someone out there who also questioned his existence, and that he will read “Quarter Life Crisis” and understand that he shouldn’t feel ashamed or abnormal because he has thoughts and questions that nobody else has or seems willing to acknowledge.
I want to make an example out of an exchange I had with one of the readers of my posts. This individual cried because of what I wrote in “Quarter Life Crisis.” Through tears, they (genderless pronoun) said something along the lines of “it just makes me so sad that you think your life is meaningless.” They also later said (in response to “Time”) “it makes me so sad that you don’t value building relationships with others.”
What if I were a young man/woman, maybe even a kid, who had these thoughts and divulged them to someone I loved and held in high regard? How would I have felt given the reader’s response? I probably would have felt sad and ashamed. I probably would have thought “oh no, I shouldn’t be having these thoughts because they make other people upset” or perhaps I would think “now look what I’ve done, I made this person cry, why am I so stupid to have done this?” or perhaps I would think “why am I such a weirdo, I’ll never fit in.”
Luckily for me, I’ve lived much of my life against the grain, so I have no problem handling these types of responses. But what if I was young and impressionable? What if I didn’t know any better? People responding in a manner like the above can have some not-so-good consequences.
I read somewhere that when psychologists deal with children, they’re not supposed to show emotion if the child doesn’t show it, regardless of how intense the child’s experience was. For example, if a child describes seeing his parents being murdered, but isn’t crying or angry, the therapist isn’t supposed to break down into tears or fly into a fit of rage, he is supposed to talk calmly to the child about his experience. I don’t know if the above is actually true, but it makes sense to me. The same concept applies here. Have some self-control.
If someone approaches you and asks or says something that (you think) isn’t necessarily rainbows and butterflies, such as what the meaning of life is or perhaps even suggests that life is meaningless, don’t break down and cry and make him feel bad. Also, please do NOT say “what’s wrong with you” or “I’m worried about you.” Like, wtf is that? Did you ever think that maybe he’s right and you’re the one living in la la land?
Ask him why he feels the way he does and let him know that he is entitled to feel that way and that there is nothing wrong with doing so or asking those kinds of questions. Don’t just try to tell him he’s wrong and make him feel stupid or bad about himself or make him feel sorry for making you upset or tell him how he should feel, that’s not productive. Offer your perspective without making him feel that his is invalid.
At this point, I would like to make a few clarifications on “Quarter Life Crisis” and “Time.” “Quarter Life Crisis” is merely an objective analysis of what my life is. That’s all it is, an objective analysis. An objective analysis is not sad or happy just as a pencil on a desk is not sad or happy, it just is. Furthermore, it is objectively true that in the grand scheme of the universe, I am inconsequential, and it is objectively true that I will eventually die, and it will be as if I had never existed (two points made in the article). It is also true that from an objective and macroscopic standpoint, my life is meaningless.
The above points are facts, nothing but facts. Most people seem to think I must be depressed because I “feel the way I do.” I don’t feel any of the above, I know the above because the above are facts, not feelings. Also, because acknowledging the above facts may invoke negative feelings in others, they assume I must feel the same way they do about those facts. But the truth is, I don’t really feel anything about the above facts. They aren’t depressing and they aren’t liberating, they just are. I don’t see people walking around crying because E=mc^2 or jumping for joy because F=ma, so why am I obligated to feel anything about the above?
Furthermore, just because I offered an objective view of my life doesn’t mean I don’t understand the relative importance of my existence. The relative importance of my existence and the objective nature of my existence are two entirely different things; even though they may seem contradictory, they’re just different sides of the same coin.
I will now provide a quote from a letter I wrote to an individual a while back: “the most important things in life don’t come in the form of a paycheck, a promotion, a job title, an experiment, or a material good. The most important thing in life is the people around you…” Why did I say this? Because I understand the relative importance of my (and everyone else’s) existence. That quote also provides a nice segue into my next point.
One reader of “Time” was concerned that I “don’t value building relationships with others.” I can totally see why someone would think that after reading the article; my delivery probably could have been better (actually, it definitely could have been better). Of course, this actually isn’t the case; I do in fact value building relationships with others.
“Time” is aimed at providing a framework that one can employ to maximize the satisfaction he receives from the time he spends. To illustrate the concept, I presented an example that ultimately describes how I prioritized my personal goals/ambitions/projects and preexisting relationships over building new relationships during a specific period in my life.
The first point I want to make is the article merely provides one example of a time I employed the cost-benefit framework. I don’t have time to document every instance in which I employed the cost-benefit framework, but if I did, you would see a diverse array of outcomes.
Two additional points I want to make are that I don’t always prioritize work/goals/ambitions/projects over people and I don’t always prioritize existing relationships over building new ones. An example from the fairly recent past that attests to this point is the following.
One evening, I had eaten dinner and showered and was sitting at my desk half-dressed working on IOS development before bed. I received a text from an individual that essentially said “hey I had a really bad day and need someone to talk to, are you available?” Note: I had only spoken to this individual a couple times prior to this.
What did I do (aside from wonder why the hell they picked me of all people to talk to)? I agreed to meet and invited them over. We ended up talking for a few hours and they ended up feeling better (I think?).
Why did I prioritize this person over my personal project? Because I knew the satisfaction I would receive from providing this person comfort would be larger than the satisfaction I would receive from typing a few extra lines of code and getting a couple additional hours of sleep.
What would I have done if this person had instead invited me out for drinks with 20 other people or invited me to a party? I would have promptly declined. Why? Because my presence is exponentially less valuable as the 20th person at the party than it is being the one shoulder to cry on.
If I had an infinite amount of time, I would do everything with everyone, but I don’t have an infinite amount of time, so I need to prioritize. I can’t feed every stray that comes my way, but I can feed the ones that are starving.
Anyway, I’m going to close this one out because my fingers are sore. Hope it provided you some solace.
