Disappointment

I watch myself do nothing with my endless time and I am truly astonished.

I applied for and received a (paid) summer fellowship to conduct research (from home) on a topic of my choosing, and I am squandering my time.

Problem 1 is I set my expectations too high, set a schedule so demanding that I would barely have time to eat in order to meet an insane self-imposed deadline. That is, I set myself up to be disappointed by how little I can accomplish in a day, week, month.

Problem 2 is I need someone standing over me, someone to hold me accountable, in order to do work. Mentorship ought to be part of this fellowship, and I thought my chosen mentor would reach out to me to see what I’m doing, but it’s been a week and I haven’t heard anything from him. Either I’ve got the start date of the fellowship wrong or I’m the one who needs to contact my mentor.

What worries me–it’s almost never the immediate situation that disturbs me but always what it means for me, as I’m figuring out my personality and learning my mind–is that I can’t motivate my own self.

I will not be working in an industry that takes kindly to my nonsense. Why can’t I begin? If I am so afraid of failure that I cannot allow myself to try, how far am I going to get in this life?

I’m optimistic about the future–my future–only because it’s not here yet and there’s still time to make it good. But as for the present…

I tend to watch television shows about mid- and upper-career professionals who know what to do when they walk into a room, who possess an incredible wealth of knowledge that lends them presence wherever they go. House and Cuddy (House). Olivia Dunham (Fringe). Annie Walker (Covert Affairs). People (characters) at the height of their game. Most importantly, people (characters) who have already done the hard work to get where they are. They’ve already hit the books, passed the tests, climbed the ranks, proven themselves.

And I watch my parents–both retired now and with nothing to do. I think of how nice it would be to retire, to be finished climbing and to simply have reached the summit.

This is a worrisome line of thinking, as I’m only 22 years old. I can’t want to be done when I haven’t even gotten started!

My doctor told me I’ll probably need major surgery by the time I’m 30. So, I’m thinking…I need to quit screwing around and make something of my life. I need to position myself to arrive at a place of stability.

Because I will need insurance by the time I’m 30. Insurance in several senses of the word.

I’ve got my 4-year plan mapped out: I’ll have to market myself as the crème de la crème so the right people will trust me enough to give me a chance to succeed.

The thing is, I’m not sure I can work hard enough to deserve it (trust/success). I don’t know if I can make my future happen. So far, I’ve been operating on luck and on others’ belief in my potential. What happens to me when that’s stripped away?

Well, I know what happens. I’m watching it happen now: I make a choice (i.e., inaction), feel guilty about it, which makes me reluctant to act, which makes me choose inaction again, repeating the inane cycle.

If I just make a different choice…

I know that what I do now will have a direct impact on my future. I tell myself, act! But then I come behind and say, tomorrow!

I fear that I’ll be depending on my parents well into my 30s. That I’ll never find the will or the strength to stand on my own two feet or, worse, that I’ll find it too late in life to justify people’s faith in me.

My sister is turning 37 next month, and she still hasn’t figured things out yet, going back to school, starting a new career. She’s still relying on our mom for financial help. (And of course, my mom comes to me with her concerns, revealing the extent of my sister’s dependency to get the weight off her chest. I wouldn’t call this a burden, but I will say I wish she wouldn’t tell me as much as she does. It feels like an invasion of my sister’s privacy and paints her in a negative light, makes her look childish and vulnerable.)

I love my sister very much but I don’t want to become her. She often tells me, “Don’t be like me” and “You did things the right way. You stayed focused. You knew what you wanted to do in life and went after it.” And I stay silent.

She is full of regret for all the time she’s wasted. I feel very sorry for her. Then, I feel guilty for pitying her like I do, for being embarrassed for her.

And then, I fear I’m looking into my future: merely surviving, spinning my wheels.

I cannot afford to stagnate. I’ve got to get a move on!