maddifestations

an 18-year-old's inner thoughts

Editor’s note:

I find it really difficult to write about growth because of how different it is for everyone. I know that what I’m about to talk about isn’t how everyone feels, but I also know that there isn’t a right or wrong way to talk about how change is affecting us. This piece isn’t perfect and it took me a really long time to write because I was trying my best to make it perfect, which is something that won’t ever happen. This is, by no means, a perfect essay, it is just the most accurate way I could describe to you how I feel. I really hope it makes sense, and I hope, more than anything, that it helps someone else who feels this way too.

xoxo – Maddie

Growth is so sickening, and confusing, and heartbreaking, and – try as they might – no one prepares you for how much it can hurt. Before coming to college, I thought I knew what growth was: the subtle and subconscious changing that we do to become better versions of ourselves. Honestly, that was the only kind of growth I ever experienced – the cushy kind where you allow yourself to get hurt because you know you have a big safety pillow to catch you when growth pushes you a little harder than you thought. 

Now that I’ve been at school for a month, my idea of growth has been completely reshaped. That is, in part, because I’m finally experiencing a real, uncomfortable, pit in your stomach, crying in the back of your Corepower class type of growth. But, it is also because this is the first time in my life that I’ve ever had to go through really really hard times without any familiarity to fall back on and seek solace in. Sidebar: That’s why I disagree when people say “your worst day in college is still better than your worst day in highschool”. In highschool, I had my mom and dad to cry to and my house to hide in when life got scary. Now, I feel like I’m standing outside in the middle of a hurricane with no raincoat. 

While most of the hurricane comes from my own mind, it also comes from seeing what is happening around me. Everyone that has been where I am now advises that “no one has it together” and “everyone just looks like they’re okay”. I know they’re right, but that doesn’t make it any easier to accept the fact that I don’t have it together, and I’m not okay. I look around and I can’t seem to see the shared confusion that apparently we’re all facing. I can’t see everyone else’s hearts aching and I can’t feel everyone else’s minds racing. Meanwhile I’m catching the fireflies of my thoughts with completely open hands. 

I’ve looked for clarity during this earth-shattering time in so many places, but the source that I keep coming back to is music. Specifically, my favorite album of all time: Continuum by John Mayer. Continuum is a vulnerable expression of how gnarly and unforgiving growth can be, but also a concession that suggests that we have to let growth happen solely because we have no choice. It is so painfully honest, it is hurtful yet hopeful, and it is how I’ve been able to reconcile with being lost in my own brain which, by the way, is normal in this phase of life. 

I could talk about Continuum for hours, but nobody wants to read all of that so I want to talk to you about the one song that has seriously gotten me through some of the hardest days I’ve had here – “In Repair”. “In Repair” is about going through a time of growth and not knowing where you’re going, yet recognizing that not knowing is okay. I can’t think of anything I could possibly relate to more right now.

Sidebar: If you take anything away from this post, please please please listen to this song:)

“In Repair” starts off with the familiar confusion we face during change: 

“So many corners of my mind, so much to do to set my heart right”

Whenever we’re in a new stage of life, there is bound to be lots of worry and apprehension, which leads to us wanting to find a “cure”. We always default to finding solutions to “setting our hearts right” instead of sitting with discomfort. But, what happens if we can’t?

When we can’t find solutions is when we begin to spiral. The chorus that follows these lyrics sort of answers is a manifestation of that spiral. Yet, it is sort of cathartic because it happens to explain perfectly how I’m feeling these days:

“I could be wrong, I could be ready”

The scariest feeling I’ve ever felt (and am feeling right now) is the confusion that comes from getting what you want, then realizing it might just be what you wanted. Let that sink in for a moment. 

It is so jarring to wake up and wonder if you were wrong about what your dreams were and where you’re supposed to be. I could be completely wrong about where I am. I could be in the wrong place or with the wrong people. Maybe that is where my fear and unrest comes from. Or, I could be so uneasy because I’m actually just ready to be somewhere I’ve never been before. Often we equate being uncomfortable with not being ready to do something or go somewhere. But, sometimes we might just be uncomfortable because we know that we are ready and that we’re finally changing. Am I in the wrong place, or have I just never truly felt how it feels to be in the right place before? 

The beauty of “In Repair” is that its chorus offers the suggestion of a new outlook with the lyrics I just mentioned, but it also addresses the indecisiveness that one feels when trying to find the root of their worry – another feeling that I’ve been facing. When you’re in such a confusing time in your life, it is hard to know if you can truly follow your head or your heart because they’re so clouded that they cannot give you the clarity you need. I felt like John Mayer opened up my mind when he said, 

“If I take my heart’s advice, I should assume it’s still unsteady”

How can I trust my heart and make clear observations about my emotions when the guiding light of who I am is so unsteady? This question doesn’t wipe out the idea that Mayer creates when he tells us that maybe we know ourselves enough and maybe we are ready, but it provides a little bit of closure to those of us who don’t know that yet. He essentially lets us know that while we are able to consider the facets of our discomfort, we don’t actually have to do that and we can allow ourselves to recognize that we can be unsteady for a little. Compartmentalization doesn’t have to happen immediately.

The last verse of this song takes on a whole new meaning when I interpret it in terms of self-growth: 

“Maybe when things turn green again, it’ll be good to say you know me”

While Mayer wrote this line about the perception of other people, I think about it through the perception of oneself; We cannot forget who we are, even in times of change, because when things get good again we will want to remember where we came from. It is so hard to keep a true and honest idea of who you actually are when you feel like everything around you is changing. I’m not a sad person, and I know that. But, when I’m so sad as a product of being challenged so much, it gets difficult to determine whether I’m just feeling sad, or if that sadness is becoming a part of me. This applies to any other emotion too; if you’re a social person, it can be hard to remember how social and outgoing you are when college forces you to be more isolated and lonely than normal. But, no matter how hard it may be, we can’t forget who we are. Our hearts can stay unsteady for a while, our minds can be knotted and cloudy, but our souls and who we really really are to our core cannot ever be unsteady. We have to remember who we are and let it guide us to who we are becoming so that when we get there we can look back, recognize the person that got us through the hard times, and see an evolution of positive growth, not a distant memory of someone we left behind to be ripped apart by the wolves of change. 

“In Repair” is more than just a poignant melody. To me, it is a reinforcement that it is so okay to feel how I’m feeling. I know in my heart that hard times pass, and there is so much good in being made tougher by means of transformation. I know that it isn’t always gonna feel so confusing and hard, and I also know that one day, I am gonna know how to navigate my life and my mind once again. But, for now, it’s really comforting to know that it is so okay to not know. 

It is okay not to know. 

After all, we’re all just in repair until we get to where we’re going.

“I’m not together, but I’m getting there” – John Mayer, “In Repair”