Chaos Theory and My Bedroom

Sometimes, my room gets so out of control that I simply cannot even think of cleaning it.

I'm talking everything I've ever worn in my life thrown on the floor, books and papers stacked on every available surface, guitar on the half of my bed I don't sleep on, and shoes: mismatched, single, and lonely scattered like debris throughout the wreckage.

In moments like these, when I've furrowed two little holes out of the piles in which to place my feet, I survey my room and feel only panic. It's almost too messy for me even to begin to fathom how it could ever be clean. Or how it ever was.

When my room gets this bad, it usually takes me a few days to work up the courage to clean it. In all seriousness, it does. I have to make myself a little game plan in my head. It always starts with making the bed. There is something about a made bed that immediately restores a bit of calm in a messy room. An island of peace amidst an ocean of chaos.

Then, I can simply start putting things on the bed from the floor. Sorting through the piles on the bed. Filling a basket with dirty clothes, -- "Oh, that's where all my socks went."-- Hanging up the thirteen jackets I tried on and threw off to the side. Reuniting separated shoes and arranging them in my closet. Putting books back on the bookshelf. On and on and on.

I have also begun to notice that there is a direct correlation between the state of my room and the state of me.

My room is a microcosm of my life.

The first time I realized this, I was surprised. It had never even occurred to me. But it is so true, it's almost comical. Crack open my door--if possible-- and you will be given an extremely accurate picture of how I am currently. 

Lately, my room has been absolutely terrifying.

As has my life.

That is not to say that recently any large and traumatic experience has shaken me to the very core. In many ways, my life has been going much the same as it always has. Stable family, stable job, great friends (albeit many far away at this time), and a somewhat even keel (somewhat).

This is to say that lately, I've begun to realize a lot of things about myself that I never knew. Or if I did know, I didn't want to confront. Or, having begun to confront them, I'd felt overwhelmed and walked away. Or, having confronted them, I failed in my convictions to change.

And it all came to a head in the past two weeks. I think this is the fate common to many post-college uncertain twenty-somethings. I graduated college and everything changed. I moved back home, my friends and roommates moved back home or away (either way, not in the same town/house/room as me any longer), I struggled to figure out a job, went through a breakup, and ultimately found myself a bit lost and lonely in a town I'd grown up in. In my old bedroom. Almost like I'd never left and had those four years of huge life changes. Almost.

And because of all of the tumult and confusion, things began to trickle ever slowly into the pool of desperation. Not because everything was so bad. But just because it was time to figure out who I was and what I was doing and who I want to be and what I want to be doing. And because a lot of things that were easy to ignore about myself became glaringly obvious in the harsh light of-- I'm lonely and people seem to find me easy to abandon...why?--I began to finally see myself honestly.

When desperation strikes, it doesn't strike like a bolt of lightning. It's more like water behind a dam, slowly getting more and more full until one day the dam breaks. And though it wasn't totally unpredictable, it's still surprising and unsettling.

I've realized these things lately.

1. I am far more self-centered than I realized. It's all about me. All the time. I talk about myself (hey look... blogging), think about myself, and act solely on my behalf.
2. I am far more insecure than I thought I was. Due to the dissolution of my relationship, the uncertainty that comes with graduating college, and the body image issues I've never quite evaded, my insecurities have reared their ugly head more lately than usual.
3. I'm both my own worst enemy and my own best excuse-maker. I'm good at some things, but I don't think so. I think I'm pretty much worthless as a human being in some respects, and that's dumb. People don't want to be around an incessantly self-deprecating Eeyore. On the other hand, I have a million and one excuses for my vices, foibles, and bad habits. Mostly my excuses come from blaming how others have treated me for how I am now, instead of admitting that I am in control of how I react to things.

Anyway, just as I began the process of cleaning my room a few days ago, I've begun the process of "cleaning" my life. A few recent situations put all of these things in great perspective, so I have started in earnest down the road of Figuring It All Out.
I realize this is not a thing. At least not the All of Figuring It All Out. Because no matter what, there are going to be things going wrong and out of control.

But I'm going to make those steps towards being more unselfish, less self-focused, and more realistic about who I am and what I can and can't do. That's gotta count for something, right?

Chaos theory: When the present determines the future, but the approximate present does not approximately determine the future.

Who I am choosing to be right now will in many regards determine who I am in the future. But who I am kind of sort of (not fully satisfied with) right now does not necessarily determine who I have to be. Those approximations and small changes will do a lot to change that outcome.

Starting with my room, and working outward.