The Great Unknown
March 6th, 2007 at 8:06 pm (Metaphysical)
After writing my post on anxieties, in which I detail the tide of ridiculous fears that has plagued me in the past few months, there was a flurry of comments and emails asking the same question: Do you think you are also afraid to lose weight?
Well, no.
I’ve heard a million psycho-babble reasons why people gain and maintain weight, but I think most of them are bullshit. Now, am I afraid of the changes that may occur when I lose the weight? Am I afraid of leaving my comfort zone of fatness, of overpriced ugly clothing, and of sleeping in on the weekends? Am I afraid of the effort it may take to get there? The cost? The sacrifices?
Kinda.
More than anything, I’m afraid of The Great Unknown.
What I mean to say is that I am no more afraid to lose weight than I am afraid to start a new job. In fact, it seems, suddenly and quite dramatically, that I might be getting a job offer in the next few weeks. The new job would bring a significant pay increase and an even more significant stress decrease. There is almost nothing bad to be said about taking this new job.
But does it still worry me? Yes. Am I afraid of the new job? No. I’m afraid of The Great Unknown. I’m afraid of the realization that I don’t know where to stash my bottles of water. I’m afraid of the moment when I have to make a copy and I don’t know where the machine is. I’m afraid of looking stupid. I’m afraid of having to explain myself to new colleagues. Even when The Great Unknown is packaged up with positive life changes, it still provokes anxiety.
Listen.
When I was in my first year of grad school, I lived in a 250-square-foot studio apartment. This, friends, is a very small apartment. I lived there with my dog, my futon, and about a thousand pounds of art supplies.
This apartment was in a very sketchy neighborhood. The first month I lived there, I learned of “The Westchester Rapist,” who had claimed victims in my apartment complex, the complex to the south, and the complex to the east of mine. For 8 months I attended Neighborhood Watch meetings dedicated to finding this man and arresting him. (We eventually did.)
I had to take my dog across the street and down the block to a small strip of grass 3-5 times a day for him to relieve himself. I had to do this, rain or shine. I had to do this before they caught the rapist. I had to get up and get dressed in the morning before I could use the bathroom myself. I still can’t believe I did that.
To top things off, the studio was less than half a mile from the LAX runway. Every 8 minutes, we had a flyby. Every 8 minutes. 24 hours a day. We. Got. Buzzed. It was deafening. It was practically debilitating. It was weird. The windows would rattle. The door would shake. You couldn’t leave anything cylindrical lying about or it would roll off onto the floor. I liked to watch out the window and see which carriers were landing at rush hour, at lunch hour, at 3:00 in the morning.
My next door neighbor was a Hertz Rental Car. When my parents came to visit, they took the Hertz shuttle and snuck through the gate and over to my apartment. Free ride! When my brothers visited, I took a photograph of them flying over my head by standing on the balcony. You can clearly read the model number on the plane’s tires in this photograph. Hell, you can practically make out the color of my brother’s watch as he waved out the window.
I lived close enough to the airport that I could tune my radio to the airport station and hear, on a 6.3-minute loop, the check-in instructions for each of the terminals, the security announcements about not leaving your bags unattended, and the rules for dropping off passengers without being arrested by airport security.
At the end of the year, I decided to go to Mexico and paint for the summer. I made arrangements to put my belongings in storage and planned to find a new apartment when I returned. It was a simple enough idea: move out. Paint. Find a new place to live. Period.
And then, the strangest thing happened.
Before I even began packing up, I got nostalgic. I began photographing the apartment in intimate detail. I painted blueprints of the studio all over my art journals. I obsessed about neighborhood features that had become the landmarks of my days. I made a collage of photographs I took of my parking space. I sighed when planes flew overhead, thinking how much I would miss the rattle and jolt. I began to mourn the loss of this… place. This… home. This…
This SHITTY ASS HELLHOLE OF AN APARTMENT.
Are you kidding me???
Would I ever consider moving back there? HELL NO. I know now that there are much better options out there, and with far fewer sacrifices of health and sanity. At the time, though, it was comfortable. It was Known. I was only afraid of The Great Unknown.
I told my dad the other night about how afraid and nervous I felt about starting this new job. “But, why?” he asked.
“I don’t know… it’s just a big change. I am so bad at change.”
He laughed.
“Have you taken even a moment to look back over your life? You don’t fear change. You embrace change. You’ve lived in the Middle East. In Europe. In Boston. In New York. You’ve traveled the world by yourself, been locked into all sorts of crazy places, eaten foods that have un-pronounce-able names. You are a risk taker. You are a stretcher and a grower. You’re seriously going to let a little comfort zone keep you from happiness?”
No, I’m not. This is me, stepping into The Great Unknown.
Lori W. said,
March 7, 2007 at 9:27 pm
This is such a timely and important post. I don’t want to be fat but the Great Unknown is pretty scary. I’ve had a lot of unknowns in the past three years. The Great Unknown with no guarantees is scary to me; but i also know that where and how I was — no guarantees and not a lot of happiness either.
Your story about your apartment (which was amusing and so well written) reminded me of how I felt about high school: I loathed it, despised the cliques and couldn’t wait to get the hell out of my hometown (of course, I had to go to community college nearby for 2 years but still). Then I saw a Hallmark special of “Our Town” and I cried, cried, cried over graduation. I thought I was being sentimental but I know I was just afraid of the Great Unknown.
I’ve had a hard few days and I just have to believe that whatever is in the future is still going to be better than what I had in the past. There are things I will miss from the past but there were things holding me back.
I just love this post. You are such a great writer and I hope things work out for the new job. I know you’re doing fabulous with the weight loss and lifestyle changes.
BethK said,
March 8, 2007 at 5:54 am
Great post! I also have a lot of fear of The Great Unknown which is why I tend to obsessively plan before I do something scary and new. I try to live by the “Feel the fear, do it anyway” rule and it usually serves me well. You sound like you have that down.
I’m keeping my fingers crossed about the new job. Sounds awesome!
PearShapedGirl said,
March 8, 2007 at 8:17 am
Perfectly said. I think The Great Unknown is exactly why a lot of people are overweight and can’t seem to get to their goal weight. I’m scared of change in all areas of my life. My latest example is that my co-worker is leaving for another job and I’m kind of upset about it. This is the co-worker that is mean, rude, verbally-abusive and arrogant and who was the subject of almost nightly rants to my husband. BUT, I’m used to this co-worker working in the cubicle next to me, and I’m not sure who’s going to replace him. So stupid. Anyway, I’m with you, let’s check out this Great Unknown…
Take care,
PSG
Jen said,
March 8, 2007 at 8:40 am
I think your post is so smart and self-aware. The devil you know… I have felt that way when I left jobs I was ACHING to get out of, I actually teared up when I had to say goodbye to a boss who always seemed to find a way to poke at every one of my buttons… I think it’s just natural to feel some fear at leaving the nest, no matter how full of crap it is.
But the apartment does make a great story, all these years later.
I just listened to Nora Ephron’s CDs of I Feel Bad About My Neck and she talks about leaving an apartment that she had once loved and then fell out of love with — it struck me that there are a lot of places in my life where I have seen the writing on the wall and tried to deny it until I couldn’t.
Good luck with the Great Unknown. :)
the veggie paparazzo said,
March 8, 2007 at 1:38 pm
Great post. Love it.
metamorphose said,
March 10, 2007 at 11:15 am
I concur. Wonderful post.
Kimberly said,
March 11, 2007 at 7:43 pm
What a great post!
I am a person who is severely opposed to change, until it happens at which point I adjust pretty quickly. But that uncomfortable, before-the-change time period always gets me worked up into a nervous frenzy. I really didn’t realize before I read your post that I have been afraid of the unknown all along. The unfamiliar. I have pretty prominent anxiety issues myself and although I’m doing a lot better these days, I think knowing this will help me just breathe until I can get past that point of change.
Commenter Jen said your post is self-aware, and I couldn’t agree more. I wish I had that kind of insight into my life.
jodi said,
March 12, 2007 at 7:08 am
this is such a great post to read on a monday morning… and you seemed to have captured the name of something we all have in our lives, but are unwilling to admit it… we each fear a different thing but when its simplified - it really just comes down to getting out of your own comfort zone… as much as i’ve read about how good change is for you and how any step, is a good step - its STILL really frightening to take the first one… funny how your dad pointed out that you’ve done the complete opposite throughout your life - amazing how others can see things you can’t… great post! :-)
Rachel said,
March 12, 2007 at 9:50 am
Amen and amen!
When I was in Paris I lived in a total dump of a teeny apartment too. And I was sad to leave it. :)
Change is scary, but I guess it’s inevitable. So we might as well embrace it and make it look like we chose it.
PS I still want to eat those eggs Benedict!
Kate said,
March 18, 2007 at 7:04 pm
This is a really lovely post. I remember having the same feelings about China - it was incredibly hot and humid, I was living illegally and in great danger - and yet, I just wanted to stay. I didn’t want to go back to the US because I had no idea what I’d do with myself, how I’d reestablish a life in America after being abroad. Even at the time I knew my strong desire to stay was motivated by a fear of the unknown, but knowing that didn’t really make taking the big leap any easier.
Fast forward three or so years - I am living in Canada, I quit my job on Friday, and I find myself with the same sort of nostalgia/fear. Even though I know a new job is good thing for me, I am still sort of… well, obsessively photographing the parking space of the metaphorical shitty studio apartment in my head. Thanks for your post. It was a nice little kick in the pants for me.