Thriver's Guilt

Time Isn't Real! Who Cares!

Don’t you love being bombarded with something I’ve written when you’ve almost 100% completely forgotten that it exists? Isn’t it just the highlight of your Thursday morning? “What the— who the fuck…? Jesus Christ, is she okay?” No! But neither are you, so it’s fine. It’s 400 degrees outside and I can’t believe I was ever excited for this god-forsaken season. The planet hates us! And as it should! We’ve been absolute dicks, and it’s chosen to destroy us. Can I blame it? Absolutely not. I’m the type to hold a grudge over somebody making me miss an advanced green.

“I’ll see you in hell!” - me as the Earth

But I digress. It’s been a weird month, and it’s almost entirely due to the passage of time and the understanding that as time (which isn’t real, I know this) passes, the more perspective you get and the more emotions you have to grapple with. It was the second Father’s Day without my dad, and then the second year without my dad (July 3, what’s up), and leading up to both felt like the feeling you get knowing that no matter how much fun you’re having in the present moment, you still have to go to the dentist next Friday. Mindfulness is for people whose minds are built differently than mine. Personally, my brain is a big proponent of reminding me of everything else even amidst a wonderful time.

Because that’s the thing: despite the obvious emotions that accompany grief, I’ve been having a good time! I love school. I love seeing my friends. I love hanging with my mom and the cat. I love the writing I’ve been able to do. I love reading, and I love that herbal tea has evolved to taste amazing iced. I love my neighbourhood, I love buying old CDs at Value Village. I’m boring, but I’m so relieved I get to be. Boredom is a gift! I’m also at the age where most of my nearest and dearest, while also busy, are just as boring as I am: time passes, but we’re still close because we don’t have it in us not to be. (Imagine getting mad at a friend in this day and age? About what? Jesus Christ!) We just happen to see each other every few months instead of every Wednesday night for America’s Next Top Model (RIP Wednesday nights of 2005-2007, respectively).

I’ve come to see growing up and aging and moving on less as an indicator of loss, and much more as proof as time as we used to categorize it as is but a myth. A few weeks ago, I had lunch with one of my best friends I’ve known since grade 11, but haven’t had one-on-one time with since August 2020. Did that change our dynamic? Absolutely it did: she had to book off an extra hour for lunch because we needed to utilize two full hours to tell each other everything. We left the restaurant in agreement that we’d been through so many ups and downs that we a) could really ruin each other’s lives if we ever wanted, and b) that we will be friends until we die. What is time?! Who cares! The great indicator of a real bond is picking up where you left off, and leaving said hang knowing that you are loved and safe.

These revelations, obviously, are a gift, but goddamn do they also come with a caveat. Listening to a podcast recently (remember how cool I am?) I heard the phrase “thriver’s guilt” as a way to describe the emotions you get when you look at your own life in the wake of somebody losing theirs and feel every angle of guilt as a result. And while I know my dad/grandpa/uncle(s) aren’t watching me from somewhere fancy, judging me for making the most of my time after their mortal selves came to an end, there’s still that ugh factor: mainly, would I be living this version of my life if they (and specifically my dad) were still alive?

Nope! I wouldn’t be, and that’s the fucked up part. I don’t know if I’d have gone back to school in another life. I do know that my mom and I wouldn’t have bonded over Food Network nights or home decor, or become closer as two friends instead of staying strictly mom/daughter. Without the space I’d taken to process 2021-2022, would I have discovered I’d been misdiagnosed with one mental disorder when in reality I had a very different kind? (ADHD hive, rise up!) Probably not! I’ve been told feeling this way (guilty, sad that I can’t share this version of me with somebody I’ve lost) is normal, and I believe it. But goddamn: it’s a lot to sift through.

But alas, it’s all part of the process; all part of the way time goes. Two years ago you couldn’t have convinced me I’d go back to university or even like it or plan and plot for what may follow. I never thought I’d go to concerts, out for dinner, out with pals, and actually feel joy for them or for me or look forward to things. I thought anything but the acute sadness I was feeling wasn’t going to be for me anymore. And then it was. So that’s why I keep reminding myself — and I guess you too if you’ve also felt and/or are feeling this way — that in time (that gorgeous, mythic beast) changes things. In a year, you will be different. In two, even more. Bad things happen, and while I don’t think anything happens for a reason (feel free to read that newsletter at a time of your own choosing), I do believe you can take those bad things, add them to your file, then maneuver in a way that allows you to define your own path. Will you feel amazing the whole time? Absolutely not. But what else are you going to do?

Anyway! That’s been my May/June. I’ll be returning to regularly-ish scheduled programming because my 12-weeks-in-six-weeks course is finished (History of Revolution in the Modern World — I recommend, y’all!) and I’m now a sole course pony until August. Do you care? That’s your prerogative! In the meantime, stay cool, know that if you live anywhere cold and rainy I am supremely jealous, and take a nap if you can.

Talk soon!

- A.