The Halfway Point

One night in early January, I was feeling exceptionally melancholy. I had just returned to New York after several weeks home for the holidays. I was ready to be back in the city. Being back in Baltimore had been delightful, but I was feeling maxed out on feelings. Warm, loving feelings from time spent with loved ones–yes, but also all the feelings that come from time at home.

There’s stress. Maybe from actual conflict or maybe from the fear of conflict–like your mind and body is continually on the defensive just in case someone decides to make a passive aggressive comment after a few glasses of egg nog. Maybe you just have no idea what to get mom for Christmas and it’s December 22.

There’s anxiety. Good and bad, but always annoying. Maybe from the build-up to seeing people you haven’t seen in awhile, even if it’s something you’re looking forward to. Maybe it’s from a routine text from that hometown SLC (stupid little crush) that makes you spiral like a teenager. Or, maybe it’s just from a prolonged period at your parents house in your former bedroom that is now a multipurpose room.

There’s grief. Maybe it’s grieving the loss of someone, an absence unavoidably noticeable by an empty seat at the family dinner table. Maybe it’s grieving what was or what is. The acknowledgement of loved ones getting older, the whisperings of selling the family home, or just the realization that things will never again be how they are right now.

Like I said, I was maxed out on feelings. As I welcomed in 2023, it was time to do what my friend Trish and I like to call “Run away to New York.” It’s not that innovative, and pretty much all in the name. It’s simply the act of leaving all your hometown holiday feelings at home and running back to your second home without properly processing any of the aforementioned hometown feelings. This is not at all a scientifically-backed solution and to be completely honest, it doesn’t work at all. But it’s a nice idea in theory.

So, back to my melancholy night. It was a chilly evening, as winter evenings in New York tend to be, and I was heading home from a show on the Lower East Side. My AirPods were in (Transparency mode for safety, don’t worry mom!!) and I had one of my Spotify Daily Mixes on shuffle. I had been distracted all evening. It felt like I had one foot in New York, and the other lingering in the feelings–because I guess I really thought my geographic location would allow me to rid myself of unprocessed emotions. But here they were. Stress, anxiety, grief–the bitches were back. Or did they ever leave?

It’s very easy to pretend you’re in a movie montage when walking in New York, especially while wearing leather pants and a pea coat. If this was a scene in a movie, it’d be the crossroads our character finds herself in right before her big break! She’s feeling confused, uncertain about the future. She’s a bit down, but not necessarily depressed. There would definitely be a meet-cute or big job offer in the next 20-30 minutes of the film. For me though, the next 20-30 minutes involved a pensive walk down Bleecker Street, a respite from the cold in the warmth of the subway station, and a quick ride uptown on the six with all the usual late-night subway characters. During this brief trip, a song I had never heard before came on. It wasn’t until the first chorus that I really noticed the lyrics.

Take me home, I feel homesick
I don’t know, where I’m going
Too many faces, but none I know
And I’m alone on the Subway home
On the Subway home

Part of my melancholia, I think, had to do with the start of a new year–especially on the heels of an incredibly emotionally taxing year. I had set an expectation for myself. We’ll call it a redemption year. No longer burdened by some really heavy shit, I’d do all the things! Be so successful! All the outfits I planned in my head would turn out looking exactly how I envisioned when I put them on! But, alone on the subway home, I decided it was time for me to go home to Baltimore indefinitely. A decision made solely for financial purposes, but one that still felt right.

You might be thinking “Cate, is this really another story about leaving New York?” To that I say no, dear reader, it is not. You might be thinking “Holy shit we’re this far in and you haven’t gotten to the point yet?” To that I say no, dear reader, I have not.

Fast forward to June 8 at 3:47PM (aka this very moment.) My hometown has once again become just home, no longer a comfortably familiar, yet escapable, holiday destination. Some of those hometown feelings are still exclusive to the hometown. For example, worrying I’m going to run into my ex at Harris Teeter. But others are just life feelings, life emotions. Ignorable maybe for a period of time, but never truly escapable.

I’ve cozied up to the emotions. I’ve learned to let them have their moment. Partially, because I have a lot more time alone now. I used to hate time alone. Probably because that’s when these feelings and emotions were the loudest, and I didn’t know how to cope. My mind was not my favorite choice of company–a real bitch to me at times to be completely honest–which would result in me feeling incredibly lonely. I started seeing being alone and being lonely as the same thing. Now, I spend more time alone than I probably ever have in my life. My mind simply cannot be avoided, but we’re on better terms. I was shutting her down for awhile, but we’re coexisting fairly well these days. I am very often alone, but very rarely lonely.

I also realized that these “holiday emotions,” as I once referred to them, didn’t have the opportunity to exist for a long time. The heavy shit and the big emotions I dealt with for most of the previous year took precedence, forcing these smaller, but no less significant, emotions to take a backseat. These–we’ll call them backseat feelings–are not overwhelming and all-consuming, as many of my emotions were for so long, but they are there. And I don’t run away from them, because I know they’re persistent and will make themselves known eventually. I let them have their moment to shine, I feel them, I process them, and I let them go.

Things in my life right now are status quo in the best way. The presence of my backseat feelings means the heavy stuff has become lighter. I’m no longer in emergency mode. I have the mental and emotional space to stress about minor things–a passive aggressive comment from a family member, an ignored text, or maybe the day-after regret of being a ‘lil too generous with your credit card at the bar. And, as weird as it may sound, I think that type of status quo stress and anxiety is something to celebrate–be proud of, even.

Six months into the year, and I am grateful for the status quo–though I’m still trying to let go of the part of me that is constantly waiting for something to go wrong. It’s a work-in-progress. I also know that it has not been a status quo six months for a lot of important people in my life. Three of my closest friends lost their dads–and I’ve watched them navigate a new, complicated, difficult, and very un-backseat feelings version of grief. There is truly nothing I, or anyone, can do to remedy this type of grief. But again, I am once again thankful for my status quo–for the freed up space in my own mind that I can now offer up to the same people who let me take up some of their emotional and mental space when I needed the storage. I hope that, in some way, I am able to help them carry those heavy feelings and that slowly, over time, the emotional weight becomes a bit lighter. And then we’ll keep returning the favor back and forth for our lifetimes. It’s really great to have people you love so much that love you so much back.

SO, here we are, nearing the end (I promise) of my disjointed emotional reflection essay. It is the sixth month of the year, and the halfway point always feels like a good time for a check-in. June also happens to be my birth month, so I am also closing out my 27th lap around the sun–another reason for some reflection! I don’t really have a good way to conclude this bad boy, so I’ll end with a few bullet point thoughts on/lessons from the past six months.

– Emotional regulation > emotional avoidance
– Reframing your idea of success can do wonders for your well-being and self-esteem
– Natty Boh is a good beer
– The NHL season is really long (spent time with a record number of Canadians this year)
– Why did Succession, Ted Lasso, and Mrs. Maisel all have to end at the same time?
– Taylor Swift is an incredible performer
– Cliche statement but it really resonates with me in this current chapter: Life is short and unpredictable and you should just tell people how you feel. Tell the people who are important to you that they’re important. Say I love you! Send a ‘lil cute text! Remind your friends how wonderful they are! Do it all!