August 15, 2012


For the last two weeks, I’ve been working as a teacher’s assistant at my college’s graphic design class for middle-schoolers, which, um, was exhausting. After work on Monday, I came home and immediately passed out in my backyard hammock under the avocado tree. When I woke up, I glanced at the corner of the yard where we keep bikes. My yellow cruiser wasn’t there. Stolen.

I love my objects and keep a healthy distance from them, since everything dies one day and the invisible things are what’s most important…but this does not extend to my bike! My bike is forever mine, and that is a truth. I feel like the laws of the universe have been broken. In a rare moment, I really don’t want to talk about it anymore. But the event set the tone for the week.

When bad things happen, my mind sets off like a slinky. I decided that I was very upset with my weight again, a really boring problem that no one should ever cut me any slack for, because I’M FINE I SHOULD GET OVER IT. I felt so low-energy while teaching the kids at camp, which left this pit of disappointment in my stomach. I didn’t perform anywhere near my best. I could have been the cool TA! I have so much potential to be a preteen’s hero, and I want that so badly. Instead, I whiffed my opportunity completely.

So the negative vibes go slinking. All this ugly thought manifested in some intense self-blame. I was chastising myself for having a fragile positivity that depends entirely on external events. I tried everything to get happy: a night in the letterpress studio, cleaning my room, exercise, Clueless and a bottle of wine. I couldn’t force myself back to normal.

I spent a lot of my teenage years feeling defeated and self-loathing, and I hated it. It made me lazy and sad. That’s why I have so little patience with myself right now. Grown-up me doesn’t have room for this, because there’s no time to waste being angry anymore.

Life just seems too good to be true most of the time, and weeks like these are the reality check. It’s a fine line between indulging an emotion and actually resting in a feeling, but I’m learning that it’s important to be there for myself without judgment if I’m wading through an emotional shit swamp. There was nothing I could do this week to get out of my bummer zone. But by Saturday, my work week was over, and I had a plane ticket back to Seattle, which made me happier. So maybe that’s the lesson: I let myself be sad, and for once, I didn’t hate myself for it. ♦

15 thoughts on “August 15, 2012”

  1. Good luck for your exam results (AS results I’m guessing?) tomorrow Naomi! I’m getting mine as well….agh!

  2. Minnaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!! Im so sad that you wont be a diarist anymore! Thought your last diary was so awsome and good.

  3. Katherine, I feel you. I leave on the 23rd, and I’m… scared and excited and apprehensive and nervous, among many other emotions. It’s pretty terrifying to go to live with strangers 10 hours away from your home, and I’m definitely feeling that terror. And thinking about trying to make friends??? Even more terrifying. But with any luck, we will get through it :).

  4. Dylan, it’s really nice to hear that you feel like that. Which sounds mean! But I mean I just feel like you described my life I just feel so defeated and them randomly lazy and I like how you just have a cool life because when I get like that I feel like I will just die before anything I wanted too ever happens or that I’ll just never leave Canberra and Ill become a public servant like the rest of the city. Anyway thanks gurrl. You always make me happy.

  5. Katherine, good luck with starting college! Your required alcohol education course sounds like the one I had to do before my freshman year. Our version had a cartoon frog named “Hoppy” who would chime in every four slides to remind us that “One cup is NOT one drink!” People were still imitating Hoppy’s cheerful exhortations when they were seniors.

    Which is not to say that there’s not useful information in those classes, and that drinking safely is really, really important, but the heavy-handed, middle school aesthetic of the AlcoholEdu system makes it perfect as an icebreaker when you’re trying to meet other fabulous new freshmen.

    Also, backpacks in college = good. Definitely bring a backpack. It saves so much time trudging back and forth to your dorm, and it’s great for smuggling bagels into the library.

  6. Congratulations Naomi!! :) I got my results today aswell and felt pleased too but I totally get what you mean…
    The end of summer is looming and I have no idea what to do with myself

  7. Naomi fist off you like Tame Impala!!! Second I went to boarding school art year which I absolutely hated. The school was full of close minded elitists who I had nothing in common with, I was homesick all year, isolated and wanting so badly to take part in some sort of discussion that actually made me think. By the middle of the year I had developed serious anxiety and depression. I had my first anxiety attack and thought I was going to die. I continued to have anxiety attacks for the rest of the year. Nobody understood or helped me. The first time I told my mom she thought it was all in my head. I felt completely alone. Finally my mom did some research on anxiety and believed me. I started to go to doctors and get help. It was finally decided that I return home. Now I have a week before my new school starts and am becoming more and more anxious and facing the same problems as you. I don’t really know why I’m sharing all this on but i just had this weird aha! moment where i realized I’m not the only one. thank you.

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