A week or two
It’s been a wild ride this of my dropping out. Things feel uncertain and I couldn’t say it’s not with some dose of fear, but I am not afraid. Every day since I have made this choice, I’ve asked myself, “Would I do it again?” and the answer always is, uncontrollably, “yes”. Actually, the answer much more approaches “Should’ve done it before.”
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so very much, at least not in a long time. I remember now of the time when I was about 14 years old and I depressed. Then, I would vomit about thrice a day and was overall very restrictive food-wise; I had my self-esteem through the floor, was unbearably anxious and in a deep state of depression. Everyday seemed a challenge I wouldn’t want to get through, for it would mean to do it once again. I don’t know why I have been remembered of it lately. Is it because I am now way beyond all of that and, in some way, on the other side, or is it rather because, in some way, I never left all that? I don’t know but I can’t say that life isn’t much, much better.
I keep going round and round about this whole decision, knowing it isn’t about the choice itself, it couldn’t be less inconsequential wheteher to finish high school 2020 or 2021, but it’s about what’s behind it. My life is in many ways more difficult due to this decision. I work much more, have much more responsibilities, and it all feels a bit more thankless, but in exactly the same way, it feels much more fullfilling. The struggle has grown, true, but so have the reasons to endure it. And when I ask myself, “would I do it again?”, it feels a stupid question.
The level of freedom and self-agency I feel is incredibly comforting in its uncertainty. I feel higher, and not only because I work mostly on the sixth floor, but because I see my life in a much more expansive way. I am way more in touch with the notion of where I am going and where I want to go, but also, more importantly, where I ought to go. What am I made of?
I think there comes a point in the life of everybody where on realizes that living for the sake of others is just another way to be dead. I believe this realization came to me when I was about 15, but it was pretty diffuse, still. I think the most important thing I am to do in the next couple of months or years is the discovery of myself. What do I live for? What do I owe to anyone but being authentic? Nothing.
It has been a week or two since I dropped, which is another way of saying that it has been a week or two of hearing to everyone’s opinion about my life choices. That is something that I’ve found unites most people; not minding their own business, and believing everybody should listen, and what’s worse, do as the believe right. Don’t get me wrong, this is pretty much what I wanted; being notified of all possible threats I didn’t consider without spending a single mental calorie? Sign me in! But I have to admit it is also extremely tiring. It is hard enough to be confident and clear about me and my abilities to also have everybody displaying deceiving shadows of yourself. One has to outshine all of the fake with the authentic.
It has never been my thing to feel “enough”, maybe that’s why I’ve done so much, and in that way it feels great, but then again, what’s having done so much worth to feel happy? Somewhen I would think that this was a good way to live life and would go as far as euphemistically naming this shitty self-esteem issues by “stoic”, but then one day, seemingly out of the blue, I started feeling great, and then I felt such for a couple of months, and now I know this is not something to strive for. I think there must be a middle ground where productivity is high but so is morale.
On the last couple of weeks I’ve coded some 10 hours straight, everyday, in 12 hour workdays, building things thousands of people will use. It all feels great, but it also feel heavy, in the very essence of the word.
