a dash of ash

may 20, 2020

It’s been two months exactly since I last posted, and that’s mostly due to the fact that I’ve been struggling to find a way to wrap my head around my new reality, let alone find a way to write about it. It’s been over two months since I left my university’s campus, feeling almost numb to what was happening around me. Since then, I have grappled with adjusting to online classes, and finding a routine for myself to follow after being torn from the routine I was just getting used to.

I tend to have high expectations for myself, but you’d think you’d be somewhat adjusted to this “new normal,” as people proclaim it to be, but I’m not used to it in the slightest. And that’s okay. It took me a while to realize that it’s okay to be uncomfortable with our lives right now. It’s okay to be frightened by the uncertainty of what the next few months hold for us. But it’s not okay to let that take over our minds. Of course, it’s important to be diligent and take any precautionary measures you find necessary, and to follow any guidelines that are set forth for our safety. That being said, we should not let the lurking feelings of uncertainty and fear consume us. For me, it is frighteningly easy to let these negative emotions consume me; I tend to focus on nothing else when I become exceedingly anxious.

One coping strategy I’ve noticed that I revert back to is looking back on “happier times.” I’ve often done this when I find myself in highly stressful or uncertain circumstances. Whether it be yearning for the relationship and happy memories I once had with someone whom I had a conflict with, or even looking back on high school when I felt relatively uncomfortable and uncertain with my place in college. But I’ve come to realize that maintaining this rearview mindset is extremely unhealthy for me as an individual. Although there’s nothing wrong with acknowledging your memories and happenings of the past, once it evolves from acknowledgement to obsession it’s not healthy.

I’ve recently found myself doing almost anything to keep myself busy. A few weeks ago, I made the rash decision to sort through almost five years of photos in my google photos account. I quickly realized that this was a mistake, but I was already too involved to quit. (When I start something, I am incredibly driven to finish it.) As I became more and more invested in the task I had created for myself, I realized that it wasn’t at all a random thing I had decided to do. I had (even if it was slightly unintentional) forced myself to take a walk through all of my memories starting at my freshman year of high school. In looking through these photos up until those taken during my junior year, I became saddened, realizing that I could never get these days back, and began kicking myself for not appreciating all of these memories in the moment. Looking at my senior year photos was bittersweet, part of me was sad that these days were far behind me, but part of me was happy to have made as many memories as I did during my last year of high school. It was this bittersweetness that had really transformed my thought process. It got me thinking…

Why are we obsessed with the rearview of things?

I made the realization that I am a completely different person than I was in high school. And I’m incredibly thankful for that. That’s not to say that I don’t have an appreciation for who I was; I simply have a stronger appreciation for who I am now. Straying away from the perspective I had seen things through for so long, I realized that it was not helpful for me in any way to continue to look back and wish for the past. I began to think about it: although I didn’t mind who I was in high school, I’ve grown to like the person I was during my freshman year of college a lot more than that particular past version of myself. But, even idolizing that version of myself is maintaining somewhat of a rear view perspective, as she is not who I am anymore.

As much as I wish I was the person I was prior to all of the chaos occurring around me, which only seems to be increasing as the days go by, I’m not her anymore. Of course, she and I still compare in many ways and can relate to one another, but we are not the same. Up until recently, I had been trying desperately to preserve who I was, when I could have been working on the person I will become. I plan to retain many of the qualities of the person I was within the person I will become, but I will be different, rest assured. It almost feels as though I’m at a sort of “in-between” right now, as I’m not the person I was, and I’m not the person I’m going to be. (I guess I’m taking more of an existentialist outlook.) But that’s really the only expectation that I feel is fair to hold to anyone at this point in time: exist. There will be days where you can do more than that, take advantage of them. But there will also be days where you feel that even existing is a struggle. But we must continue to exist now, so that our future selves have the opportunity to look back and acknowledge us, but be sure not to become obsessed with us by looking through that rearview mirror for a little too long.

For me, it is inevitable that I will not be the same person that I was before this. But, rather than dwelling on that fact, I abandoned the ‘rearview’ outlook that I had grown far too comfortable with throughout the years, and began to look at things from the present and moving toward the future. I will be a different person, and I look forward to meeting her.

xoxo, Ash