I'm using more quotes in this post than in my high school philosophy exam
I was lying in bed last night and I had thoughts, so I wanted to make a blog. French writer Jules Renard (what a cool name) said that writing is a way of talking without being interrupted. As a person who's often interrupted (probably because I tell long stories with too many hesitations and detours) I've always liked that concept.
As a kid I was an avid reader, then a storyteller and pretty soon a writer. In middle school I really wanted to become a novelist -- around 14 I wrote a poem about my disarray that there wasn't a professional high school to become a writer (creative writing courses in university were not a thing in France, or at least not widespread). I soon started struggling with depression which made it hard to read or write. I still did it but it was never consistent.
Years ago I started making zines and listening to audiobooks. Perzines are my main writing these days and with audiobooks I've been able to really start "reading" again in the past year. I stopped dreaming about being a renowned author though (I only have a manuscript for a children's documentary book that I need to finish proofreading and send to a publisher at some point).
I wonder if the key to happiness is lowering your expectations (ugh, am I started to pretentiously ponder life again like in my old blog?). I've felt better in the last three years than I had since childhood, and a big part of that is my transition but I also just... Let go. Stopped wanting things like marriage and kids or big artistic success.
Is that sad? I'm mostly at peace but it feels sad when I put it like that. Is it just getting older? I'm just... Calmer. I think sometimes it's a good thing. But sometimes I'd like to have more fight in me. I'm not talking about personal ambition anymore, but about more global issues. I do activist shit sometimes but mostly I'm in denial because I just feel so powerless and it depresses me.
Some people around me are dead, some are still struggling really hard. I guess I have this weird survivor guilt (is "survivor guilt" the new "impostor syndrome"?). I believe in community but I also know you should put on your oxygen mask first. Of course the question is always where to put the cursor -- when are you saving yourself and when are you picking your comfort ahead of others' needs?
In my favorite comfort movie, Pride (2014), the fictional version of real activist Mark Ashton tells the main character: "Don't give it all to the fight. Save some for home", and I guess it's both a good advice and one I feel guilty hearing.