Living in Transition

Where do I start? Where do I start to put my life back into words from the nonsense that has accumulated? Life’s residues of anxiety, joy, stress and confusion build up in my skull, weakening my defenses. At one time I thought I had thick skin. Now my experience varies from day to day. I slowly pull my way through the mundane, often struggling to lift eyelids. In the blink of an eye time moves too slow, trudging back to where my memories reside.

It’s a new dawn. It’s a new day.

I need some space to think. I need some time to see. I once danced in a dream. I once lived in San Francisco. Now I live in transition.

I returned to the Bay Area on August 23rd to visit old friends and to attend Burning Man. I had intended on returning to New Orleans, instead I decided to stay here, in San Francisco. My decision reflects a choice, at this time in my life, to focus on personal relationships instead of my artistic career. For me, this decision is huge. It signifies a major shift in my outlook, an experiment in personal happiness and an acknowledgement of the validity of friendships. Maybe it’s not necessarily what you do that counts, but how you do it. Or maybe none of that matters at all, as long as you’re happy. So, I guess this means I’m still figuring out what makes me happy: both friends and art. Maybe I can have both. I’m still working on this.

Unfortunately I haven’t had much of a chance to settle into my decision, because my life doesn’t feel like my life yet.

I still feel as though everything is on hold. For the last month I’ve been living at Chad and Fritz’s house and working the job I had as a student at SFAI. Everything has been fine. It’s giving me a little time to get my shit together as Chad and I are planning a drive cross country to pick up the rest of my crap from my parents’ house in DC, to visit friends and to look at graduate schools along the way.

However, I feel the lack of stability starting to get to me: I’m staying in someone else’s space, my stuff is still in storage, I have a temporary and part time job that I hate, and I feel perpetually stuck in limbo.

I often find myself in this transient state of being. I attribute it to my fear of commitment… maybe if I stay impermanent forever, I don’t ever have to commit to anything..?

It is simultaneously liberating and continually exhausting. The pressure and stress of constantly living impermanent leaves little energy to focus on much else. I feel worn out and weak. My defenses are low. I feel myself reacting.. it's not really me. It’s just for now, though. It’s not forever.

I’m also really missing a significant portion of my support in SF. Three of my best friends here (people who had helped stabilize me in the past) have moved away: Ben is in Japan, Bobby moved to NYC, and Jillian has recently relocated to Athens, GA. I miss them terribly and I definitely feel that hole in my life where a good portion of my closest friend base is missing. At the same time Jenny is busy being a mother, Melvin is working like a maniac, and Beth is pregnant.

At least once I day I feel overwhelmed by the uncertainty of the future and all the work and energy that will go into restabilizing. I have the drive cross country, then the return, the stress of having to find a new job and a new apartment, while, at the same time readjusting to a new situation and a new life. Although familiar, it's not the same. I continually remind myself I can only take it one step at a time and I can only do what I can do... but I feel weight hanging over my shoulders of obligations lurking in the future.

For now, although probably not in my best state of mind, I continue to feel completely appreciative and thankful for everything I do have, the friends who are still around and everyone who is supporting me. Chad and Fritz get major, major props for letting me crash at their place.

I’m looking forward to the drive cross-country, it’s something I’ve been wanting since I left SF for upstate NY. And I’m definitely ready to unpack my storage unit, to live in my own space again, and settle into some sort of regular life style. Until then I remain in transition.