2011 has been a real fuck of a year. Quite honestly, it’s among the worst years of my life, which all in all says some nice things about my life, but when has such shallow perspective ever brought real comfort. Still it caused me to reflect a lot on myself. This often brought up rather unflattering realizations, but also made me realize I had to make some serious changes.

The year got to ass-kicking start when my girlfriend and I broke up after 3 years. What was intended to be a mature and mutual decision quickly deteriorated into a mess of pettiness and cruelty for which both of us carry our share of the blame. At the same time a new semester had started and two of my closest friends had left the school. The once strong dynamic of our group was worn thin when there were just two of us. Piled on top of that were some particularly frustrating classes. Emotionally, it was a lot to cope with all at once, and a heavy depression set in.

I spent the summer away from home. My parents had recently moved into a new house and without my girlfriend and my friends either away for the summer or at least an hour away I saw little reason to be there. A particularly kind friend allowed me to stay with her until my apartment opened up. Once it did I still couldn’t get a job that summer so I found myself spending much of my time sitting alone in my apartment. Now when I am alone with nothing to do, I become incredibly introspective which is a terrible thing when I’m depressed. Every aspect of myself was up for critique my art, my writing, the way I talk, the way I look, the things I read, the things I watch, my past, my present, my future, my very being. I spent much of my time flailing madly, walking in circles around my apartment, and angrily talking to myself (sometimes in different voices). I can only imagine what neighbors thought of me, because I felt like I needed to be locked in a ward.

I didn’t really have anybody to talk to about this. As I said my closest friends had left the school, even fewer were around for the summer. It used to the be the person I could talk to about anything was my girlfriend, she was my best friend, but half my problems were ones I had with her so any attempt at talking to her devolved into arguing. It was about this time I started to realize just how heavily I had relied on my relationship with her. That over-reliance was actually part of the reason she wanted to break up in the first place. So now I didn’t only feel depressed, I felt alone.

I want to say that there was this big sweeping moment where everything changed for me, but it was really a gradual thing, still is. At some point I started to realized how I’d become detached from the things I most enjoyed. At a loss of someone I loved and several good friends, I tried to attach myself to things I’d really no interest in just to have a bond with those who did. That culminated in a particularly embarrassing attempt at a more romantic relationship. (You know who you are, and if you are reading this I’m terribly sorry, I was a big creep and I was working through a lot of things. You’ve been really cool about the whole thing, thanks, I’ve informed a few friends that they can never let me live that down) I realized after that just how far I’d sunk, I was clearly pretending to like things so other people would like me.

I mean absolutely no insult to these people, but I’ve just no interest in the latest tv shows, wild fantasies, general escapisms, and least of all the fandoms involved. A few months ago, I couldn’t have told you what it was I did like, but I knew it wasn’t that. I was slowly piecing things together from there. The biggest awakening for me came when I attended a Baltimore Symphony Orchestra rehearsal. They played music by Edward Elgar. After months of depression, it was the most wonderful and beautiful experience I’d had in a long time. It’s hard to explain my feelings without describing the two years I’d spent in an art boarding school where I’d been surrounded by this kind of music and had my biggest worldly awakening, but the music brought me back to that. I felt that all my disconnected parts were suddenly in line, things could be made sense of.

I had a bit of a grace period after that. I was listening to classical and experimental music, I started doing those weird crude cardboard cutouts, and I was getting out more. I’d spent too much time of this year cooped up. I hadn’t done anything new. I needed new experiences, new material to draw upon. I became obsessed with the concept of the “experience.” I wasn’t looking for anything unique or original, it just had to be something that got me moving, took me out of myself and my comfort zone. How could I expect myself to create work with life if I didn’t get out live one. It was an inspiring period, but I realized it go only go so far on my own.

The beauty of the experience is a wonderful thing to have, but there’s something that makes it so much more satisfying when you can share that moment with other people. The experience of two or more people in single place in a single moment can have radically different perspectives. Those perspectives and the presence of those people in our own enriches the experience. It ties the people together, the experience becomes something that group can always carry. The separation of individuals is loosened.

It was that enriched experience that I needed. Here may be a part where I become critical of others because I realized why it took me so long to find this. I was captured by the beauty of the experience, the phenomena, and wanting nothing more than to share its beauty with friends I almost lost it again. I found the people with whom I wanted to share this resistant. I frame this now as if I proposed it as a poetic orator, but that’s not true. I put it as little more than trying to get some friends out, a night on the town. Honestly that was all I wanted. I wouldn’t think that hard or unreasonable but instead I found most people were content to stay in their homes, to spend another day stressing over work they were consistently disappointed with, and to complain about it online to all the other people doing the same.

I wouldn’t attack anybody specifically about this because I’m certainly not innocent of it. You’d not have to look far on any of my social networking accounts to find some petty whining, but that’s just the thing. It’s a vicious circle we all drag each other into it.

I realized if I was going to call people my friends, I needed to do more with them than work and complain about working. No significant portion of that friendship should be measured by detached and distracted conversations over the internet.

I started finding new people to hang out with and cherishing the few people who I could hang out with before. Things for the past month and a half have been interesting to say the least. I met new people, hung out in different groups, had new conversations, I started making radically different art that speaks to me in a much more engaging way, I even managed to convince myself to finally ask out a girl who has been waiting incredibly patiently for me to do so.

I certainly can’t say I’m healed of all wounds that were open at the beginning of this year. Things are in flux and I’m uncertain about a lot, but that’s a good thing. Stagnation was what had brought me so low before. I’ve no idea what this new year is going to bring, I don’t know whether to be optimistic or cynical, but at least this time I’m standing on two legs, on top of everything else this past year has thrown at me. 2011 was certainly a year I would not want to relive at any point, but it was definitely a year of growth. I got some bruises, but at least I’m feeling better now.