I'm coming to grips with a strange realization. From graduation in spring of 2008 until the fall of 2010, I was living the rough and tumble, young artist life. I found myself underemployed and living on two friends' couch, working the occasional odd job and industrial to barely break even. The entire time, I was also on the search for better employment working to get CoLab off the ground. I partied a little too hard, but I also kept busy and constantly working towards something better.
Over the past year, I started making some more money and CoLab starting taking off. It's been rewarding and exciting and I'm very thankful for those two things.
And yet, I came to the realization yesterday that this has also been one of the most sincerely depressing periods of my life. If you haven't seen me posting blogs as often (and you haven't) and wonder why I'm not taking to the streets with my opinions on Herman Cain and Boston Theatre Economics like I usually do...
To paraphrase Fight Club, you're reading me in a very strange time in my life.
As I walked through the empty, dim glow of the Genzyme and MIT labs I realized that no matter how much better things get, they will also be difficult and it will be very easy to give up. CoLab makes me happy. My job makes me happy. My apartment makes me happy. So why aren't I happy?
It's worth noting, that this current slump really starting about two weeks after Dearly Beloved wrapped up. It's also worth noting that I've had slumps all my life, and I'm aware that life fluctuates and in a few weeks I'll probably feel the spark of life come back. But for the time being, I have to cope with the fact that even though life always gets better, it also always gets worse.
I have a long overdue "Man-date" this week with one of my many hetero life mates. (If confused, please consult feature film "I Love You, Man".) We have been talking about similar themes in our lives. We both experienced a severing of bonds in the past year and we both have a sense of anxious malaise, so I know what I'm experiencing is in large part a symptom of my 20's. So I figured this is something worth sharing with ya'll. I'm not sure how other people cope, but I guess I'm figuring it out for myself now.
The quarter-life crisis. It's a thing.
And I'm okay with that.