I don’t do New Year’s resolutions. I never really have (aside from a handful of times). Truth be told “resolution” is a word that I’m not too fond of to begin with. It’s too definite and suffocating. It’s a results-driven word that sets up a pass/fail scenario. Did I see my resolutions through to the end? If yes, then I succeeded. If no, then I didn’t. For some, it’s not a huge deal. They might say, “oh well, I’ll try again next year.” Or use some other justification. But for someone who overthinks as much as I do, and used to struggle with self-confidence the way I did it could instead be quite damning. The prospect of failure was too much for me to bear.
Before I started seeing a therapist, I had a tendency to spiral. I’d replay scenarios in my head, wallow in self-pity, and I took failure personally. Every time something didn’t go as planned or ended in a negative result my confidence meter took a hit. As I’ve said before, I was not well-equipped to handle adversity, had no self-awareness, didn’t have an ounce of mental fortitude. When times got tough I withered. When the pressure was on I came up small. When misfortune hit everything cratered. So for me, a failed resolution became another reason for why I didn’t deserve to live. I took it as proof that I was worthless, and would always amount to nothing.
So why bother making them if I was certain they would fail? Why risk it when disappointment was likely inevitable? Not a healthy train of thought in the slightest, but I was not a healthy person. As you know, in the past few years I’ve found my healing. I’ve changed and I’ve grown. I’m not the same scared kid that I used to be. I’m not the same person that used to break easily. I’m not the same guy that looked for excuses not to try. But as much as I’ve changed, a few things still remain. I don’t do New Year’s resolutions, and I probably never will. Perhaps deep down I’m still worried about the pain that failure might cause? Perhaps not.
Either way, the tradition is results-driven, and as you’ve probably noticed by now I am much more process-driven. I hold myself to a certain standard and I’ll settle for nothing less. I’ve lucked into positive results in the past, but was never able to sustain the success, because I hadn’t set myself up for the future. In order to get repeated good results, you need to firm up your process. It’s hard to do that if you’re not meeting the standard. If I’m being honest, that type of outcome—success without meeting the standard—is futile to me. If the changes I make aren’t permanent, then it’s wasted effort. Everything I do henceforth would be done in hopes that I would hit the mark without knowing how I actually did it the first time. Which is only wasting time. Think of it like an experiment. You write out the steps you need to take in order to get the results that you want. If there’s a mistake in your process, you tinker then try again. And again and again and again. That’s how you learn and grow and improve. By finding out what works and what doesn’t work, and changing your process accordingly.
This is exactly what I lacked when I was in high school—the ability to adapt. I didn’t have a process whatsoever, let alone a sound one. But I still expected success to come of it. I still expected things to work out in my favor, meanwhile ignoring the fact that I had done nothing to ensure such results. You can’t get good grades unless you study the material. You can’t get a girlfriend unless you develop some sort of connection first. You can’t find success unless you put in the work. Sounds obvious, but it wasn’t to me. For whatever reason, I had thought I was a special case. I thought I could get positive results without putting in much effort. In truth, I think at times I was just too smart for my own good. Elementary school came easy to me, so I continued to expect more of the same. I should’ve known that eventually it would catch up to me. But I remained blissfully ignorant and unaware until it was too late.
By that point, I was in college, and in way over my head. Throughout Junior High and High School I had put in the minimum level of effort required to come away with mostly B’s, some A’s, and a handful of C’s. Which was acceptable to me, but beneath my level of care. I kept asking myself, “why put in all that effort if I can do less and still come away with adequate results?” I thought I was being smart, but little did I know that this was always going to come back to bite me. I approached my college courses with the same level of inattention, and I suffered the consequences for it—coming away with the first and last D I ever received. Which nearly ruined my college career right when I had just begun. But I put my head down and got serious, because what else could I do? I needed to right the ship immediately.
After some steady effort for the next three and a half years, I was able to bring my GPA back up to something respectable. But what could’ve been? How different would my life have turned out if I’d actually tried? What if I hadn’t talked myself into accepting a life of mediocrity? What if I had worked diligently the whole time, rather than only for the last handful of years? What if I had been as determined then as I am now? Unfortunately, these are not questions that we will ever get the answers to. Who I was then is not who I am now. I wasn’t someone capable of pushing through adversity. I was weak-willed, a quitter—someone who always took the easy way out. Someone who was used to running away or hiding. Someone who was pampered and sheltered. Someone who never took responsibility or held himself accountable. I thought that all mistakes could be covered up, and that I could lie and weasel my way out of the consequences. I lacked the self-awareness necessary to realize that I wasn’t fooling anyone.
And yet, I somehow lucked my way into mild success. Again, nothing sustainable because I didn’t have a sound process, but it was better than what I’d experienced up til then. For the first time in twenty-four years I was content. But the contentedness was fleeting. As I gained more responsibility at my job, the work became less fulfilling. And the little confidence I had gained whittled away again, and I was left with even less than I’d started with. Little did I know, but I wasn’t meant for the corporate world. I had only entered into it because, like always, I had taken the easy way out. When I left high school I didn’t have a plan—I hadn’t spent much time thinking about my future. Which is fine for someone of that age. It’s perfectly acceptable to start college with “undecided” for a major. But the thought had never crossed my mind. Instead, I pursued one of the career paths that I thought would be acceptable to my parents. I didn’t have the grades or the patience for a STEM major, so I studied Business instead.
But that was never my interest or who I was. It wasn’t what I was meant to do. I wasn’t a marketing analyst like I had thought. I wasn’t a salesman like my employer had told me. I wasn’t even a customer service representative even though I was good at it. I’m a writer and a storyteller. A creative and an artist. I was meant to craft sentences and build worlds. I was meant to wordplay. That is what I am and that is who I will be. I’ve learned a lot since I dedicated myself to this blog in 2020. It’s been a long journey with many twists and turns. Up until last year I was learning on the job, getting better incrementally but not getting good enough or progressing fast enough. That much changed when I found a writing community. I started to receive the feedback that I needed to hear in order for me to level up my ability. The year 2023 was a blessing, and I’m looking forward to seeing what 2024 can do for me.
So as the calendar crosses over, what am I hoping to accomplish? What am I expecting from the new year? As I said, I don’t do New Year’s resolutions. But I will set expectations. I expect to continue to improve as a writer and a storyteller each and every day. I expect to be able to write free of hindrance—no longer will I question whether or not I’m good enough. I expect my words to flow easier than they did before. I expect my story to be more coherent. I expect to continue to foster relationships with other aspiring authors. I expect to continue to learn from both the good and bad in life. I expect to become a better person this year than I was last year. But most of all, I expect abundance, growth, and blessings. Something good will come of your life if you only continue to work.
JHUMWRITES—A Mental Health Blog 