After many many months of not touching LJ, I just felt like writing this, and so the yellowfrown returns. I'm not sure why or what exactly precipitated my internal thought. Be warned its long, potentially depressing (although its really not supposed to be), and maybe a bit more info about my inner thoughts than you'd want to know (and perhaps more than I'd normally care to show). Also, many details have been omitted to protect the innocent. So feel no obligation to click the link.
I've been thinking a number of big decisions I've made or continue to make. Some days it seems that I've made some horrible mistakes. A few topics continue to pop my mind; work, friends, sex, and drugs (which just about sums up all of life, eh?).
Back to high school... the only purpose in life was to do well in school so you would get into a good college. This is all I heard from my parents, my friends' parent, teachers, television, etc. Many of my peers, and to some extent myself, engaged in an extreme competition of sorts. People participated extracurricular activities so that their college application would stand out more, not necessarily because they enjoyed doing it. Some of my activities were like that, especially the honor societies, they where a chore you had to do to get into the best universities. Other activities, like working on the quiz bowl team, I found interesting and rewarding.
In the end, I fared alright in the competition. I didn't get into any of my top schools, MIT, CalTech, or CMU (got into many programs there, but not computer science). Instead I went to RPI, not a bad school, but not a top tier one either. I was really disappointed at the time. Most of my friends got into the first or second choices, while I was making the best of my 5th (I also got into Clarkson with a hefty scholarship which was my 4th, but school seemed oppressively dull and located in the arctic somewhere near the northern border of NY). I worked real hard in high school, but it wasn't enough (it was the humanities that ultimately bit me in the ass). However the joy of getting away from my parents, away from Long Island, away from the boredom of my first 18 years of life, the disappointment did not last.
When I started RPI, I was still in competition mode, this time I had even more drive. My goal was to be the best in my classes so that I could... hmm... I never figured that out, but at the time it seemed like the right thing to do. I joined a number of extracurricular activities (student government and the campus newspaper) partially because you have to do them (high school mindset all over again), they seemed interesting, and I really thought I could make a difference. After being involved for a few months, the desire to be in an activity just for the sake of being in one vanished. I truly enjoyed working in student government and the newspaper. As an added bonus it kept me from getting too bored.
My freshmen year, one important priority missing was friends, I filled my time with work (either class or other activity). (Another related priority missing was sex... at this point in time the thought hadn't even crossed my conscious mind, although my subconscious mind was trying). Sophomore year was mostly the same, although I did invest some time in making friends. In fact, it was that year that I met some of my best friends through the newspaper and student government activities. Initially our friendship was based solely on work, but as time and years went by, the friendships were true and deep. I cared about what happened to them, and they cared about me.
Junior year was the watershed year. February 9th, 2000, a friend told me he was gay... whoa... brain overload. The event took me totally by surprised and awakened part of brain that until then was ignored. My initial response was so much shock, my friend did not know what to think. It took a number of weeks to come to grips with things and allow the subconscious mind that trying desperately to be heard for years, to finally be processed by the conscious part. I decided to alter my priorities, mainly that work needed to be less of my life and friends (and sex life) needed more attention. Shortly thereafter I decided to get out of student government, lessened my commitment at the newspaper, stopped dealing with the failing yearbook, and even cut back on some classes.
Still, I don't think I've ever succeeded on finding the right balance. Perhaps the biggest culprit (at that time) was I still had no direction in life, I was still just trying to do as well as possible in classes. That was what I was told to do for so long, I never questioned it. When everyone started thinking about jobs, I felt like I needed go to graduate school, why? Probably because the real world was too scary, I got used to going to classes and learning, and at RPI I was doing really well at it. My research mentor also played role in pushing me towards graduate school. So senior year I applied to graduate schools and got into Berkeley (along with CMU and RPI which were both ruled out after visiting Berkeley).
That was four years ago, and I'm still debating whether it was the right decision. My graduate life started out horribly. I felt totally out of place, out of my league, and was convinced Berkeley made a mistake in accepting me. After a couple semesters of just barely hanging in there (with special thanks to some of my RPI friends), I began to feel like I fit in. And for a short time, I actually enjoyed it.
Today, I hate doing research. I'd leave today had I not already invested four years into it. I probably have another year or so to go. But every day getting the motivation to do work is getting harder and harder. This hasn't been a recent phenomenon, its being a nagging problem for a number of years now. However, when my research group had tons of enthusiasm for the work, it kept me going strong. Last year when my advisor sold me out (a whole other story) the enthusiasm ran dry,and its slowly taking its toll on me. It would be easy to blame it all on that, but part of the blame lies with me.
Overall, I'm not happy with graduate life. I don't enjoy writing research papers, I don't enjoy competition with others *inside* my own research group. I don't like the endless nature of the work, with loosely defined goals that change at the whim of one of my multiple advisors. Perhaps the inability to ever do research perfectly is insulting the perfectionists inside me. Some combinations of these has drained all the positive energy out of me. Whatever energy I have at the beginning of the work day, is drained before lunchtime, earlier if there are meetings in the morning.
Did I make the wrong decision going to graduate school? Maybe I just fucked things up once I got to Berkeley? Even with hindsight I can't answer the questions, but does it matter? Until time machines are invented I can't change it. I can question whether I should stick with it and get the PhD. With about a year to go, I'll probably make it. But what am I going to do when once I get my degree? Certainly ain't going to be research at a university.
Work is only part of my life, albeit a sizable chunk. The harder topic for me to think about is everything else. It also harder to talk about given that some of my friends are reading this. There are number of moments in life that I wonder if I took the wrong course of action and more importantly if I did, why?
Early senior year, my first night at a club, I met Dr. Rob. No one believed he was a doctor, and I didn't care. I enjoyed the attention, I enjoyed the kissing, I enjoyed his presence. It felt good. After a couple months of seeing him every week or two at the club, we eventually went out a date. A movie then a bar. I remember the movie, Billy Elliot, it was a nice flick. I remember sitting next to him, heart pounding non-stop. I'm not sure what in particular made me nervous, just the entire thing, it was my first date. At the end of night, he dropped me off at my dorm, I didn't invite him in. My excuse (which was somewhat legitimate) was my roommate would be around and he certainly wasn't gay friendly (although really really cute navy boy). The real reason is I knew what he wanted and I wasn't ready. My roommate turned out not to be home that night. Should I have invited him in? What would I do today if in the same situation? I'm not sure what I would say, and that worries me. If I'm not ready today, when will I be ready?
Junior year of undergraduate life I met this wonderful person, but it wasn't till senior year that we became friends. We became good friends towards the end. But we were at different stages of life, I was preparing to move on Berkeley, he was figuring out his future and his existing relationship. At the time I sure I knew how to handle the situation: avoid it, don't get involved, don't interfere, stay away. There are many days I regret that decision. Even had I decided to handle the situation differently, it still wouldn't have been hard to make something happen, but maybe I should have tried. A few weeks before graduation he gave me a letter apologizing for the all the anxiety he caused me. Every time I (re)read the letter I think about the anxiety I caused him. Was I unfair to him? I'm glad we remain friends to this day. There will also be a place in my heart for him.
Since then I've been on a few dates, less than a handful. Unfortunately, I just didn't find a connection with any of them. One or two attempts at courting (could be read as carefully hunting) others to no avail. I'm waiting, some days more patiently than others, for someone to come along. Maybe I need to be more proactive in finding that person, maybe I don't know how? A separate question is maybe sex doesn't have to wait for someone who I could see a relationship with? The romantic inside me wants to wait for someone who at least has the potential of being a right person for me. But why? I have no religious beliefs that place special value on the act of sex, in fact if the sole purpose of the act is pleasure, why not? Is it just because I'm a romantic or is there more to it?
But what if a Mr. Compatible (or by some strange luck, Mr. Right) came along. Would I be any better at making a relationship work than my previous “attempts”? Although I can't change the past, my life priorities going back to high school are the root cause of my social ineptitude. I never learned how to form relationships with people during those high school and early college years. The years when you cared less about being mature and more about gossiping over the latest drama when Harry kissing Sally after in the hallway after class. Now I'm stuck learning complex social interactions on the fly. Even learning through observation is difficult, since many of my friends hide the inner workers of their relationships from outsiders. Books, televisions, and the Internet fail to convince me they are based on reality. How does one learn about these things, when they've come to a point in life when they're scared to try for fear of doing it all wrong? So if Mr. Compatible comes along, will I just fuck it up completely?
Friends have also come hard to me. I never had many friends when I was young. Various things conspired to make that so, one of which was myself (others include overprotective mother, eye surgeries and the aftermath, etc).
I always find it easier to stop working when I'd be doing something with someone other than just myself. But there are many days when its just me and I wish I had more friends so someone would be around to hang out with. Why didn't I try harder to make/stay friends with X. There have been a number of X's. People who I found interesting (in a non-sexual way), who could bring a smile to my face, and dissolve through some of my introversion. This is not to say that I don't have many friendships that I value very much, but maybe I could have more?
One case in particular happened 2nd year of grad school. She was a student in the class I was TA'ing. So at first, there had to be a line between her and me. But she persisted after the semester ended, but I never let the line go away. She needed friends, I needed friends, but something prevented me from letting things happening. I'm not sure what. We had many similar likes and dislikes. I have other friends that are women, so that doesn't seem like the cause. She really needed a friend, and I wasn't helping. One night, I got a text message that she was in the hospital. I called her, but she could talk for long and was crying so hard I couldn't understand what she was saying. I never found out the whole story, but I think she tried to commit suicide that day. Was I a factor? Why did I refuse to engage her as a friend? We haven't talked much since, and I sort of hope she has forgotten about me. I wasn't as amiable to her and she deserved, she was a good person, and we should have been friends.
Most of the other stories about people that I probably should have been friends with are not as dramatic, but still, why I do create barriers for some and not others? Some barriers I've created intentionally, and for rational reasons, those I have almost never regretted. I was never meant to be friends with everyone.
Many people think that all I need to solve all my problems is a little (or a lot) of alcohol and pot. Two things I'm pretty set against doing. I have little desire for the effects of alcohol, and my olfactory and taste senses despise the substance. This tends to be a hard topic for me reconsider, since I'm pretty set in my ways, and the constant peer pressure does wonders to reinforce my resolve to stay away from them. That said, maybe I should consider a beverage (that on the surface doesn't make me want to vomit) as a social lubricant? Genetics does indicate I should be able to hold my liquor. I'm not sure how I will go about re-thinking this position, but I think it deserves another round of serious consideration.
I'm not happy most of the time. And I'm pretty sure the issues mentioned above are the primary factors. I've made a number of superficial changes in the past year or so. I've been improving my body through the gym, a marginally better diet, and some other things. I have been working less, although for some its hard to tell. But none of this is addressing any of the root issues. Something bigger must happen.
Hmm, lots to continue thinking about. One reading of this exposition is negative, looking back I've made some pretty big mistakes. But thats was not the goal. The question before me is how to evolve who am I today, into who I want to be tomorrow. My experiences from the past are lessons I need to learn from, but without knowing more about what I want, I have no idea how to get there. I need self-direction in work, love, and friends because I'm beginning to seriously doubt if I'm on the right track.