Mortified: The Podcast, My Diaries, and Being Vulnerable

A friend recently introduced me to a podcast called Mortified. I was instantly intrigued when she said it was about people reading diary entries from their adolescent years. Actually, it's not quite true to say I was instantly intrigued; my initial reaction was envy, or, dare I say, jealousy. After having gone through the process of rereading my lifetime of entries, minus a few years here and there when I was either too troubled or too content to write, I had been ruminating on the idea of creating not a podcast but a blog about funny, embarrassing, heart-wrenching pages of these diaries, and those belonging to other people (through a submission process). Of course, that blog never materialized, and this podcast did, and it’s amazing.

Around a year ago I rediscovered all my diaries and became engrossed in their content. It’s not that my life was so interesting; but the words that filled those pages back then really were quite prescient, considering the person I am now. I can see the early instances of self-doubt, of chastising myself for not being perfect (I have several interesting redactions, mostly about boys I said I liked at one point and later edited the entry to say how stupid they were), and of great sensitivity, which I saw only as a flaw and not as the gift I’m able to see it as today. Granted, it has taken many years of frustration and effort to understand first that there’s an actual classification for a “highly sensitive person” and second that there’s nothing wrong with that type of person. It’s hard not to wonder how my diary entries—and therefore my self-perception, my life—might have been different had I understood more about myself early on.

Recently my twin sister and I brought our first diaries to a dinner to share with each other. It was the same diary, a hardcover in a floral cloth wrap, except hers was dark blue with white flowers, mine red with purple flowers. Our aunt gave them to us during a visit back to Ohio after we’d moved away to Florida. We were 10. Because we are twins and experienced life much in the same way in those early years, we wrote about many of the same events (or, oftentimes, non-events). These diaries are the most amusing because of our perspectives on what was important in life and how we tried to capture that importance. We laughed for hours. Knee-slapping, tear-jerking, breath-holding laughter.

My first diary.

Names have been obscured to protect the innocent.

But in reading these stories, and hearing those shared on Mortified, under the melodrama about crushes and BFFs and family, I noticed a tangible vulnerability that occasionally made my smile fade, momentarily. Oh. That wasn’t very funny. I kind of felt for him or her or me. That child was hurting. Did they get help? I had so little understanding about my own feelings for so long; even though I had adequate language to describe how I was feeling, I didn't always know what the underlying causes were, or how to help myself feel better when I was sad or angry or frustrated. Perhaps that is just part of adolescence.

For me, the irritability continued until I broke down in my senior year of high school, unable to bear the weight of my emotions, of the pressure I felt to be perfect and the disappointment of always falling short. Only because I broke down, and because some concerned adults who knew me and noticed my changed behavior and appearance, did I get help. Anyway, my hope is that kids don't feel they have to suffer alone so much, so privately. I know it's idealistic to think that, 20 years later, we have better tools, more access to information, better communication, less stigma so that we, as a society, can catch and address such issues. But I fear we've tipped the scale of useful information and have only perpetuated the harmful illusions of happiness and perfection with things like social media and "advice" books and online forums. And blogs.

I still hope they write, today’s kids. Lest anyone think I’ve traded in private diaries for this public blog, rest assured there’s plenty I still keep private, in a paper journal that I write in with a pen. I don’t find all the answers to my troubles through journaling, but I do find I have better self-awareness and, in the best of times, improved perspective on a situation that I might have been looking at with tunnel vision. So I still do it. Plus, I want to have something to look back on 10 and 20 years from now, when I may need to piece my life together, in my head. Something else I’ve learned from looking back at some of my diary entries is that my memory is skewed. Not only do I misremember the way a life event happened or how it made me feel, I also forget that certain things ever occurred. Particularly the positive things. And there were lots.

Obligatory New Year’s Resolutions 2018

Some people love to mock new year’s resolutions. They’re trite, meaningless, overhyped and underperformed. Part of a self-improvement movement that we all foolishly buy into. But to these cynics I say, way to crush the ambitions of millions of people seeking to better themselves through the resources available to them. I get it. The problem is that a whole industry exists based on making people feel like they're not good enough. And sure, some of those resources are a bunch of quackery, books or programs designed by people with professional credentials hoping to make money off of others' struggles and insecurities—issues that they themselves probably don't have and never will. And that's unfortunate.

But some are based on empirical research, or they simply are motivating, quackery or not. And if that inspires someone toward positive action, good! People can read what they want into the you'll-never-be-good-enough message; I think there's a delicate balance. For me, I know there will always be ways I can improve—expand my mind, gain new and different experiences, challenge myself physically, and develop all-around healthier habits. I know there will always be room to improve because I know I'll never be perfect. I rather like the idea that I have little (or big) areas to work on in perpetuity, to see what kind of a difference I can make in my life and, hopefully, others'.

Research shows that, the more realistic and specific a goal is, the more achievable it is (also a source of contention for critics, in that we can measure our self-improvement "to death"). If I have never had a running habit and I set out to run three marathons by the end of the year, I may not be successful. Is it achievable? Sure. People have done far crazier things. But I’d question the point of it: am I trying to prove that I can do something big, or am I trying to fulfill a longheld desire to become a distance runner, and sustain that habit? It’s not for me to judge which is a “better” ambition, but if the former is the case, maybe you just have that type of personality and will achieve your goal, but then what? Was it meaningful? (Does it matter?) If the latter ambition is driving you, perhaps tempering your first-year goal would prove more successful and offer more meaning in the end—and in the years to come. What I’m getting at is, do you want to achieve something for 2018, or for 2018 and beyond?

But I understand the “I want great things now” mentality. We’re all susceptible to delusions of grandeur, and I tend to be extreme in my own ambitions. But haste often makes waste, as the story goes, and I’ve learned that I would prefer to have the fulfillment that comes with achieving goals that stick year after year than the fleeting satisfaction of a one-time-achieved goal.

And with that rant out of the way, I’m happy to say that I love to make resolutions. I learn from each year’s goals and try to tweak them for better success the next year. So here are my moderately set goals for 2018, in random order, designed more for optimal achievement than for ultimate glory.

1. Learn to do a flip turn. I’ve been lap-swimming for several years now, and I have yet to learn this skill that would make my laps so much more efficient. I’d really prefer to have someone teach me, i.e, hold my hand (not literally because that would be dangerous), but I may not have that opportunity, so that means watching and re-watching YouTube videos and just taking the plunge. 
2. Double my cycling mileage. While I’m glad to be riding regularly again, I’m in a rut with my typical 13.5-mile loop from home. It’s a convenient route, if not a scary one, as I ride alongside road traffic for most of the way. Adding on another seven miles is doable, but it means more life-threatening traffic encounters and obnoxious honking and yelling from drivers who don’t know or don’t care about the bike/automobile traffic laws. The obvious solution is to abandon the convenience of riding from home, pack my bike up, and take it to a cyclist-friendly trail. So that is what I shall do. 
3. Adjust my eating habits. Specifically, cut back on eating after dinner, which I realize I do only because I’m bored or seeking comfort. Also, try more and new recipes. I find safety in routines and regularity, which means a lot of the same foods and meals daily, weekly, monthly. Not only am I missing out on a lot of other great foods, but I have discovered that cooking or preparing food soothes me and makes me feel happy and accomplished. And I've acquired some really great recipe books this past year, but I’ve barely made a dent in them. (Thug Kitchen, The Anti-Inflammatory Diet in 21, The Colorful Kitchen)
4. Run 10 miles. This goal has nothing to do with will and everything to do with feeling comfortable using my new feet, post-surgery. It’s also a big unknown. The goal could either be easily achievable within a few months or something I feel I want to take my time with throughout the year. The time frame for “total healing,” meaning all the swelling and discomfort from my surgeries will be done, is up to a year. So that means, at most, mid-July, one year from when my second foot was operated on. I’m already starting to weave running into my walks, but I’m not rushing the process. It’s hard, though, to have such a brief encounter with my old familiar friend and then have to depart with what feels like not enough time. But if I learned anything from the surgeries, it was patience. Lots of it. 
5. Develop a better nighttime routine. Some nights I’ve already been able to do this. It means shutting off the TV by 10pm; having my meals, work clothes, and workout attire prepped for the next day; getting into bed and writing a bit in my journal; and then reading something pleasurable until I can no longer keep my eyes open. 
6. Practice mindfulness. This one’s tricky to be specific about because I don’t want to narrow the scope of things I could be more mindful about, but I also realize that to say “practice mindfulness” is huge and vague. So I’ll try to add some specificity: be more mindful about eating, in times of heightened anxiety, and in my social media use. In particular I want to recognize when I’m mindlessly eating, worrying, or scrolling through feeds, and then be able to, without judging or berating myself, focus my attention elsewhere or do something more productive. This one’s pretty big on my list. 
7. Continue reading for pleasure. After many years of putting “read more” on my lists of resolutions, I’ve finally been able to get back into a reading habit that I enjoy. I’m enamored by all the interesting stories out there, and I feel more enriched as a person for learning about people’s different perspectives of the world. And I’m simply entertained. 
8. Consume fewer material things. I’ve realized that, in times when I’m feeling low or just bored, I gravitate toward shopping. I would by no means consider myself a “shopaholic”; I have neither the budget nor the appetite for that particular classification, and I’m already turned off enough by the times I recognize I’ve bought things I don’t need. However, I do buy things I don’t need, and this is neither a sustainable nor a healthy habit. Luckily I’ve discovered an awesome clothing resale shop that allows me to consign or donate the clothes I don’t need and buy what I do need, second-hand. Because of the shop’s successful model, it regularly has “new” items and the clothes are fashionable enough for me. I'm far more concerned with being comfortable, so if I don't look bad, great! If I actually look nice, bonus! 
9. Move more. Dedicating time to daily exercise is not really a struggle for me; however, outside of that hour-long window, my life is pretty sedentary. I sit at a desk all day for work, and I tend to “relax” a lot after dinner, which essentially means lying around and watching shows. Or I’m studying, another sedentary activity. It's during the sedentary times that my mind is more prone to a tailspin. I know there are many benefits to moving more consistently throughout the day—physical, psychological, emotional. Sometimes it’s easy, when I have chores I need to do—laundry, cleaning, cooking—and these are things I can sprinkle throughout the weekday evenings to keep me from over-relaxing. Work is the harder challenge, but I have options I can take better advantage of. I have a workstation that can accommodate both sitting and standing. This became available to me right after my foot surgeries, so I have not made much use of it, as I needed to avoid being on my feet for a while to aid in recovery. But it’s about time I start using the standing option, even if just for 15 minutes here and there throughout the workday. I also rarely take a lunch break. Outside of my office is a quite beautiful walkway along the water, perfect for a lunchtime stroll. I know this because I used to do it; but again, surgeries. Time to revisit the walkway. 
10. Volunteer. I’ve known for some time that this would solve some of my ongoing struggles, like feeling disconnected from people and a general lack of purpose. But finding the right opportunity has been difficult. I thought I’d found the perfect one with the Guardian Ad Litem program—being a court advocate for foster children who don’t have an official guardian to speak up for them—but it requires more time than I would be able to dedicate right now. Perhaps when I’m not in grad school I’ll revisit this option. But for now I’m looking for something I can do for just one or two hours a week, at most, that directly involves helping people. Ideally I’d work with children, but I’m open to helping any people who could benefit from my time. I remain vigilant, but I welcome suggestions from anyone who might know about specific opportunities in Tampa. 

If you are the type to make resolutions or set goals for the year, I wish you the utmost success! If you're not, kindly don't rain on my parade.