as the new year erupted and spewed forth roaring concern over my identity and capabilities as a newly formed adult, i raced with floundering haste toward nervousness and cognitive misalignment. somewhere along my way i became desperately confused, like i hadn’t known since i was a child, about my identity, my capabilities, and my feelings. the circumstances that coalesced about the turn of the year gave way to an unhealthy level of introspection, and i saw many of my selves tumble one after the over until all i recognized was useless defensiveness, doubt, and misguided guilt. and somewhere further along the way i determined to rebuild all of it, piece by piece, and even with the myriad worldly atrocities of the year—the deaths, america's embrace of fascism, the shootings, the police, the worldly and domestic neglect, the tolerance of rape and intolerance of progress, and the racism—i slowed myself down and learned how to be confident again. getting help from a psychiatrist, trying prescriptions for generalized anxiety disorder, seeing a therapist, and sitting myself down to intimately think certain thoughts through until i could find some sense of resolve saved me, and i cannot be thankful enough for the progress i made this year, and the people who helped me.
So fucking much happened i mean jfc MATT GOT MARRIED, and graham and i were best men. the three of us danced with mom. there were so many points of love connecting all around, and i still think about it every single day. i'm so happy for matt and julie--there's no way to put this one in words. i got to celebrate my parents' 30th anniversary with them over drinks and dinner in rhode island. i felt so privileged and honored and i felt so much sweetness. the relationship i have with my parents as we've gotten older has become something so cool, sweet, and supportive--i'll never take it for granted. i got to see my whole family four separate times, and that hasn't happened since we were all still living in iowa.
i started dating again after a long transition out of a relationship. i actually liked someone after just meeting them—a lot—and i really needed that feeling; it was so nice to know that it does in fact happen, even if it didn't work out and it sort of fucked me up in the process. geoff shared a screenplay with me that i read while taking a train home from my parents'. it was SO GOOD . i was blown away. and so happy to have a chance to read it. i went to carnegie hall for the first time with lukas, whom i hadn't seen in years. alyssa visited. i got to see Radiohead with rick. michael and kendall came with me to rhode island and we lived like kings. michael got an awesome new job where i think he feels a new sense of challenge, and i assure you he's killing it.
i saw piebald, and kyle kowalsky was there. i got to see kyle several times, and i really think he’s just the best. he had a rough year, like a lot of us, but he's the kind of person who can be down, for a while, and yet never out. my parents came to visit and helped me make my new apartment my own. my dad visited when my mom was in rochester, and we drank and played pool with kendall all day. i visited chris and kathryn! it was one of the sweetest and most inspiring experiences of my life. they are the best, and i'm impressed with and proud of the family they've created. ben was here twice and holy fuck do i love that guy. i made THREE trips to iowa and saw jason every time. he's the best guy i know, a god amongst humans.
i became comfortable in my office, and i made strides in becoming comfortable in my skin. i started to feel confident in my writing, which changed everything. i dated a lot, letting brooklyn show me a good time every time. i walked a lot, almost every night. i sort of lost my mind a few times. maybe several times. maybe countless times. but i found it each and every time, even as it got harder, even if it took months. davis and rachel became my neighbors! claire moved, then visited, and now, thanks to the nyc gods, she'll be back in brooklyn soon. kendall and i helped brandt and nicole move, and we spent the day with them in Flushing. and later in the year we spent a night at their new place listening to music, getting tanked off silver bullets and playing beer pong in Suffern.
2016 by the numbers:
- 3rd year in brooklyn, 3rd year in bedstuy
- 1st time living alone
- my parents' 30th anniversary
- MATT GOT MARRIED, becoming the 1st of us brothers to do so and it was probably the best day of my life to-date
- i got my 1st sister-in-law!
- i went on 16 first dates. jesus.
- i had 9 first kisses
- reached 1 full year at reorg
- i had 2 dinners at applebees, your neighborhood bar and grill
- i went to carnegie hall for the 1st time and saw conor oberst for the first time
- i earned 5 chin stitches (you know, for falling (like, in the night))
- 1st time visiting a best friend who had a baby (thanks chris, thanks kathryn, thanks ginny, thanks darla)
- 1st time sleeping on my bathroom floor at 3 a.m. because a cockroach crawled by my face before vanishing into the night
- 8 psych appointments (thanks dr. yanowitch), 7 therapist appointments (thanks dr. pabon)
- 11 donuts in one day (thanks, america)
- i saw jason hall 3 times (thanks, god)
- christian’s 1st visit
- ben’s 1st visit (thanks, groovy q), and 2nd visit
- 1st and 2nd time at Madison Square Garden
- 2 tattoos of desserts
- i paid off 10 grand in student loans (jfc)
- 1st time seeing piebald (!!!!!!!)
- 2 catheters at the same time and i don’t want to talk about it
- i ran 275 miles, including one half-marathon
- 1st significant presidential upset (and, oh, what an upset it was)
- 2 blackouts (in which i blacked out, not the power)
- i went to 26 shows this year (thanks, new york)
and i learned some things. i learned to take my headphones off every once in a while so i can hear myself think. i learned that sometimes hanging out at home with just myself, a good record, and some tallboys on my bed can be just as good as a night out at a bar. i learned to embrace and admire—with newfound confidence—my feminine side, which is my sensitive side, my empathatic side, my compassionate side, and my brave side (thanks, mom). i remembered how cool it is to be unapologetically different (thanks matt, thanks graham, thanks mom, thanks dad). i remembered how fun going to shows is even when I’m by myself, and sometimes especially when i’m by myself. i learned that i’m no where close to being ready to raise a child, but i also learned that I truly want to (thank chris, thanks kathryn; you’re both heros to me). i learned that i can in fact cry—sometimes when i want to and sometimes when i really don’t, which taught me to get help with my anxiety and my general mental health. getting help for my anxiety taught me how to be honest, with people and with myself. being honest helped me learn to get better. and i learned to not get so ahead of myself about getting better. i learned that grad school did pay off in myriad ways and i’d trade it for nothing and i still adore the new school. i learned a lot about being a friend. i learned a lot about what makes relationships work. and what doesn’t. i re-learned how to be love being alone. i learned that sometimes it’s okay to be unforgiving. i'm learning to speak up. i'm learning to trust my gut. i learned that enduring a cyclone of consternation or some shotshell of misguided guilt is not an inescapable sentence or some looming specter but simply a robbery, one that i have to and can defend against.
i was in a few ruts this year, and at one point i was excited for one to be paused for a brief spell by a weekday to myself in bedstuy in celebration of my third year anniversary of living in new york. before i left i took a photo of myself on the roof, smiling with sincerity and holding a beer slightly upward and angled as a celebratory cheers to new york. it had been a very hard, very frightening, very weird, and very fun three years, and three years of which i was truly proud. so i wrote a long caption, one poetic and cheesy and genuine, posted it on, and then headed out the the fort greene steps. i walked the route i’ve walked since my first apartment on pulaski street, where i lived three years ago when i was a baby to brooklyn and still a kid to the world. i bought two tallboys from the bodega near South Elliot Place and made my way to the top of the stairs. i sat down, breathed in deep and took in the view of downtown manhattan, framed by tall trees that were parted perfectly by the towering staircase. and out of no where my core turned to tar and i was struck by an absurd but unwavering fear that what i had posted on instagram earlier on the roof was stupid and people would be disappointed in my petty, conceited offering for attention, and i became so disappointed in myself. i became so frustrated, and i became so sad. i felt pathetic. my night, my whole day to myself, my celebratory date with my city, all en route to ruin over an instagram post. because to me it meant that my intuition was wrong and i couldn't trust myself to be cool. i sat there atop the stairs, my place of zen and appreciation of life, trying to find confidence in my night, in the skyline, in the monument, in the soft roar of the taxi on Saint Felix, but i couldn’t carve out from my atmosphere anything more than loneliness and separation and defeat. my stomach was doubling its knots and my body started to shake, somehow torrid in the cool air. why do i always do this? why can’t i just chill? why can’t i just trust in my actions and emotions and let me be me, regardless of judgment from peers. then i remembered what my therapist told me. i remembered what i told myself: that i’m on my team. “same team.” i remembered my anxiety brings out not the worst in me, but something separate from me altogether, something that’s not me, something that is cruel and insidious and i have to stand up to it. i thought about how far i knew i had come. i stood up, and i looked up at the tops of the trees and then onto the beam projecting from one world trade center and i breathed in, with purpose. then i smiled. to say the least it was a weird night, but i won, and i had a great time. i was proud of myself, and i'll never forget it. i hope i remember it forever. i awoke that morning to look at the post and saw all of these wonderful comments from people i love. i was doing alright, and for once i truly felt it.
i did a lot of stupid shit this year, too, but stupid things i’m proud of, either because they were scary and i did them anyway or because they were fun. i took molly for the first time on a date with a girl i barely knew. i tried to jump over a heap of trash in LES and got stabbed deep in the hand by literal trash. i got a tattoo of a chocolate frosted donut, and then i got a tattoo of a strawberry milkshake. i went out, and i stayed out, getting tanked with co-workers. i neglected to heed advice from my neurologist and got too drunk on new meds and fell on my face in the middle of the night, earning five stitches and a very weird story to tell a girl on a second or third date at the times square applebees (your neighborhood bar and grill). i let myself be vulnerable and i took risks. i forced myself out of my comfort zone at every show, at every house party, at every bar, and with every late night walk home.
i'm starting 2017 with a stabilized brain and an absorbent heart, wide-eyed and twinkling under the gleam of my city. new york projects whatever enchantment or despair i choose to feel. this year i'm going with the former.
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