[Length: around 1400 words. Content: an intensely vulnerable story
- my “grown-ass adult” origin story, if you will. Features my emotional
experiences and growth over the past few years, starting from
depression to where I am today, and expressing my hope that you might
find the same positivity in your life]
Friends! As I approach
my 28th birthday, I wanted to take the opportunity to reflect on my past
few years of adulthood. This a story to say: I’ve taken a journey
towards emotional wholeness, and I’m still weird and you’re welcome.
This is a story to say: if you're at your edge, I feel you, I've been
there. This is a story to say: there are causes worth giving to and
pitching into, please find yours, and consider GiveWell. This is a story
to say: I’ve tried to find loving communities, I think I’ve found some,
and I hope you find some that fit you. This is a story to say: I'm
really excited for the next decade, there are always difficulties, but
opportunity exists where change exists.
Emotional Wholeness
Let's
start with emotional wholeness. I'll be honest, emotional wholeness is
still a hard concept for me to pin down. Perhaps, as Kristen Neff describes,
this is the ability to hold our hands to our hearts and say “It’s hard,
sometimes, feeling [lonely/anxious/embarrassed/what have you]. But
everyone feels this way sometimes. Yes, may I be gentle and
understanding with myself. Yes, may I be as compassionate as possible in
this moment.” Or it’s about having a rich vocabulary of emotional words
to describe our internal experience - https://www.cnvc.org/sites/default/files/feelings_inventory_0.pdf . Yet again, it might be as simple as the ability to cry when we feel sad, to laugh when we learn something new.
I
don’t know for sure, but I do know I'll always remember one of the low
points in my life. It was December 2015; I was still playing a lot of
video games. In particular - and this remains embarrassing for me to say
- I was consumed by a hentai game, a game where my characters were
saving the world and having plenty of sex along the way. My best friend,
Chris, texted me to see if I wanted to go climbing. This weekend was
the first time, to my recollection, that I didn’t want to answer him,
that I didn’t even respond with a simple “no”. For the first and only
time in my life, I considered suicide. I was hooked. I was ashamed. I
hid.
The depths I felt then remain the deepest I’ve experienced
depression. I got better, and this took time. Healing absolutely took
the help of friends and therapists - thank you for your timely
suggestions and a quick emergency turnaround back in 2015, Dr. L. Thank
you for your constant understanding over our year of work together and
your encouraging me to get out to 1st UU, M. Thank you for a countless
number of friendly walks, Scott. Thank you for your love, mom and dad
and S. To all of my readers, if you’ve made it this way into the piece
and feel those depths, I encourage you to consider if therapy is right
for you - one of my goals in writing this personal piece is to help
normalize therapy. It’s OK to ask for help. It’s OK to need help.
I
say all this because I’ve been complimented, now and then - stuff like
“you live a really interesting life” or “you’ve got a lot of willpower”.
While the former might be true, and the latter less so, I think it’s
important that we all recognize our shared experience. I feel anxiety,
sometimes. I feel tired, sometimes. I also feel joy and excitement and
focus. I’m human, and I hope no one ever tries to make me an idol. My
life now is a product of years of work, of experimentation; this process
is never complete because I’m still human, and being human in any world
is hard. From my own experience, I can shout it to the rooftops: change
is hard, and it takes time. Please be patient with yourself.
Causes
One
belief carried me through my darkest hours in 2015: the belief that I’m
at least doing some good in this world. I still remember a time that I
actually stopped for a solicitor on the street; it was after work in
2013, the solicitor was cute, and I felt like talking to someone. She
was with Save the Children and wanted me to sponsor a child, to support
one child’s education in Africa.
I didn’t sign up.
Instead, I
did my research. I’m something of a rationalist - friends know that
I’ll sometimes give odds about an outcome, like my giving “60% odds that
David comes out to dance this week” (he joined! Props, dude). Much of
self-labeling as a rationalist means trying to have accurate models of
reality. (This could mean, say, having powerfully predictive models like
https://www.fs.blog/mental-models/ or rigorously updating beliefs based on new information like https://arbital.com/p/bayes_rule/?l=1zq )
In
the midst of this research into how much good my donation might do, I
was reminded of the effective altruist movement, and in particular GiveWell’s work.
GiveWell’s research is detailed, impressive, and clearly articulates
one view about how the world works and how to best contribute charitable
dollars for good. I also recalled Peter Singer’s basic idea, that most
well-off folks can donate 10% of their income to charity without
significant changes to their lifestyle. Reams of paper could be written
about how charities work. Reams could be written about how different
charities are, or are not, effective.
To keep this simple: I agree that GiveWell’s recommendations are a worthwhile investment.
So,
ever since 2013, I’ve donated 10% of my pre-tax income to causes
identified by GiveWell. Recently, I’ve also allocated 1% of my income
going to carbon offset projects, and $500 to 1st UU here in
Philadelphia. These donations are fairly impersonal and small, yes, but
they still benefit the world. They’ve still helped me retain a belief
that I have much to give to the world, even when I found myself in my
darkest hours.
Loving Community
For years, I've tried
out new activities - if you met me on the dance floor, at choir, at a
SMART group, improv, or up in Boston, or at Curalate, or Inspire, then
you've already seen evidence of this. What I hope to see in everyone’s
life is a sense that they’re tied to a loving community. Humans are a
pro-social species. One particularly strong demonstration of this was
found by Emile Durkheim - the more socially integrated a person is in
society, the less likely they are to commit suicide.
In this vein,
I’ve found no community as personally satisfying to me as dance.
Consider my background - a tech worker, staring at a screen all day,
hooked on video games for years. And then consider dance - all genders
joyously participating, shared movement, and a common love of music.
Dance meets emotional needs that, years ago, I hardly even knew I had. I
feel alive when I dance; I feel interesting and fun when I dance; I
have a low-pressure environment where I can meet new friends. For all
this and more, I love dance.
Still, I’ve mentioned it before and
I’ll repeat it again: change takes time. What communities might you find
in your life, I wonder? Perhaps you might find yourself in a
language-learning group, excited by the possibility of learning a new
way of interacting and practicing that skill in a foreign country.
Perhaps you might find yourself, as I did, joining the MKP for an
intensely vulnerable weekend retreat. Perhaps you’ll find yourself at a
“Women in X” event, engaging in all that feminism has to offer the
world. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. I hope you find yours.
Closing
It’s
amazing to me that I can write all of this and realize there’s a whole
other half to me, and that one of these days I’ll have to establish my
creed as an engineer. Now, I like working to ensure that the
technologies and processes underlying everyone's life are as clean,
practical, reliable, invisible as possible (should out to CCL and
Inspire here).
Those are stories for another time.
By this
point, I’m sure I’ve made myself “that strange guy” on the internet
among everyone I know. That’s cool with me - if I can help even one
person by talking through my own shame and history, I say it’s worth it.
As long as you’ll consider reaching out to a friend to offer or receive
help in this crazy modern world, it’s worth it.