[In an effort to use FB more for socializing and my blog more for my writings on my life, I am copying old content from there to here with the title prefix "Archive:". This was originally posted to FB on 2 August 2017. It provides a good backdrop for the posts that follow, as I moved from bad to worse and then better.]
Today is my 2nd SFiversary. This is my retrospective.
Although I don't broadcast a lot about myself on FB these days, I've been thinking about writing this post for a while. Each draft has degenerated the same way: into a thicket of reasons and stories of my difficulties. Because these have been two very, very hard years for me. Don't get me wrong, I live a life of extreme privilege, and I've felt overwhelmed with gratitude at times. But wow, it's been a doozy. And if that's representative of my experience, then maybe I should write about it as such. So here goes.
An invisible reason for the difficulty has been adjusting to a new city. I had not done this before, not counting college. And I'm still quite ambivalent about SF itself, although the people I know here and the surrounding state are wonderful. My living situation has taken a while to figure out. At first I was at Langton Labs, which still feels like my home socially, but is too public a space for me and my possessions to live in. Then I moved to the hill above Noe, and although my house was nice, I felt isolated and I hated the neighborhood. More recently I've gotten my name on a rent-controlled lease in the Mission, and I'm finally happy with the situation.
(On this topic, I underestimated how much adjustment was needed moving from my motorhome back into a fixed dwelling—living in a house is surprisingly not just like riding a bike.)
A more obvious reason for difficulty has been adjusting to a new kind of career. I'm lucky that Plethora has been a great job. I still have much learning to do, and I don't feel as nimble as I used to be. Only now am I understanding the need to move among projects to keep my mind engaged. (To their credit, they've been trying to explain this to me for some time.) The constant rhythm, as opposed to the seasonal push of academia, has been hard. I never feel like I have enough rest. Working less, or more flexibly, will eventually be necessary.
An open question is my relationship to my old career. I feel more detached from number theory than ever. This includes my former colleagues, who were also friends. Surely I wasn't very strong at solving hard research problems, but I had other skills and I felt like my presence in the research community was valued. How to keep this from going to waste?
And there's my personal life. Because the details here affect other people, I'm of course going to be a bit cagey. The short story is that I've felt continuously in a state of triage, utterly incapable of being intentional about distributing my time and attention beyond immediate needs. If anything, I have erred on the side of trying new things and exploring the fringes of my social network, rather than faithfully maintaining my pre-existing bonds. This is clearly unsustainable, and I owe my friends better.
That's not to say that I have been completely uninvolved with the friends and community I already have. They have also had a very difficult time lately, the general opinion being that 2016 was the Worst Year, and I invested a lot in support where it was needed most. I've seen friends dealing with death, abuse, addiction, rape, public smearing, tormenting housemates, major heartbreak, and more. One of the reasons I've survived in this role is knowing where my boundaries are, being able to mix empathy with compartmentalization, but it's still been a tremendous drain.
There are also the inner aspects of my personal life. At some point during my road trip I realized that it was time for my identity to perform a molt, and I anticipated the opportunity for growth while my life was undergoing such changes. Around the end of my time in Boston I had gotten a handle on my family issues. It was clear to me that I had other issues from my upbringing, involving how I socially bond with people, how I share my love, what my persona is, what adulthood or manhood means to me, and so on. Discovering the next iteration of what is "right" for me as a person.
So I knew, as a rather explicit goal, that upon my arrival in SF I would be taking on greater social risks and processing the results. My conviction is unbroken in the belief that I must love those around me more bravely, more honestly, and more vulnerably. But I have utterly failed at estimating how hard this would be: issues are stubborn, and risks are frightening and sometimes painful. I honor people's boundaries as they are communicated to me, but often I feel frustrated that I have so much more to share. Sometimes that communication is lacking, and I fear crossing lines. In the most poignant case, I swear the lines were shifting on me, and eventually I had to be the person to walk away, feeling very deeply heartbroken. It would be easy to call these feelings a failure to keep clear lines between "romantic" and "not" in my life, but deep down that's never been the clearest distinction to me: I'm friends with people whom I admire, and it's hard not to be in love with someone you admire. The question, then, is how much to continue providing only what others want from me, or how much it can be acceptable to discuss if I want something more or different. I'm afraid of asking for what I want, less for fear of not getting it, and more because in my mind it is tied up with patriarchical behavior. I still avoid many behaviors or traits because they coincide with a notion of "maleness", even when this is an unhealthy overcorrection. I even still have difficulty emotionally bonding with most men and challenging this within myself has been very slow.
I feel like a motorcycle improvement project where the bike's been half disassembled, without a plan emerging for how to put it back together, but it's still the only mode of transit. My time management is crap, I have no cooking routine, I can only feel agency fleetingly, I've cast a uselessly wide social net, and I don't know what to commit my remaining life's work to. I remember wanting to write a "1st SFiversary" post, and feeling much the same way and postponing it because maybe I just had to wait and see a little longer. Another year in, here I still am.
Here is the brief part of the post that isn't complaint. What has kept me going is that I do feel loved by many wonderful people. The obvious hero is Elizabeth Raible, whose capacity for love and affection is limitless. One of my favorite things since moving to SF has been watching her thrive, and watching so many of my friends discover the joy of knowing her. More generally I'm grateful to the folks of LL for treating me as one of their own each day. Beyond that, I'm a hesitant to give specific shout-outs, for many insecure reasons that you can guess. If you have shared moments with me, I try to stay mindful and view each one as a gift, and I am grateful to you. I am inspired by how smart, caring, and creative yall are, and I want to pay forward all yall have done to make my life brighter.
I wish this could be a celebratory post, but life has been what would be, and I prefer to be honest. With no idea of where to go now (or who I am), I guess I'll just keep going. See you en route.