Psychosis of the urgent

Emily Bruzzo
Editor-in-Chief

Recently, my psyche has found itself knee-deep in the introspective waters of a little pond I like to call REALITY *echo*. That’s right, readers, life greeted me with a firm handshake, tipped its custom-designed fedora, puffed an elegant smoke ring from its Cuban cigar, and requested that I become an active, adult-like participant in the decision-making-being-mature-you-must-be-accountable thing.

I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.

I don’t know exactly when the world decided I was ready to become a functioning grownup, but I know somewhere between filling out college applications and waiting in the infinite line at freshman orientation, the world most certainly made that decision.

I don’t feel ready. I still laugh at jokes about defecation and I spend far too much time viewing cat videos on YouTube. I think it’s in society’s best interest that we reconsider turning me loose.

It appears, however, I’m not the only who is suffering from a sudden onset of insecurity, uncertainty and existential angst. Other members of my age group seem to be asking, “What does it all mean,” and “Does anything really matter?” We’re 20-somethings after all; a healthy dose of nihilism never hurt anyone at this age.

But I’ve spoken with a number of my peers these last few weeks and it seems that we’re all, how do I put this — losing our minds.

Some of us are applying to graduate schools; some of us are searching for jobs and/or internships in our desired industries; some of us are just looking for pants because we haven’t spent much time with our washing machines lately.

Regardless of the individual plans, we are all, at the moment, apparently clinically insane. We’re worried; we’re anxious; we’re debt-ridden.

I’ve decided it’s time that the voice of reason rise above our lunacy, and though I am not the official arbiter of sanity for our student body, I do read a lot of fortune cookies and Dear Abby columns, so I feel I am prepared to temper our youthful absurdity with a few words of unsolicited wisdom.

First, take a deep breath, readers. Midterms are coming up. LSATs and GREs are wreaking havoc. Cold-calling is causing irritable bowel syndrome.

Our current insanity is only natural. Nothing about stress feels exactly nice. Our constant struggle in life is to mitigate stress and achieve some type of mental, emotional and philosophical balance.

When stressors overwhelm us, this desired equilibrium seems unattainable and a bizarre, primal mechanism kicks in, leaving us convinced the world will explode if we don’t establish at least a temporary equipoise of our energies and emotions.

Stressful times are almost always marked by a sense of urgency, and I posit that the paradoxical sensation we’re presently experiencing of feeling empty yet brimming with emotion is the result of this urgency.

I discovered my urgency the other day whilst sitting in a coffee shop with my parents rambling on about how the world isn’t fair, none of my dreams will come true and how I’ve been considering putting a downpayment on a cardboard box because my fate is to live on the side of the road, my only neighbors being a hobo named Ronald and a one-eyed dog.

With iced latte in hand, the crumbs of a cranberry scone lining the corners of my mouth, I submitted forth a life plan that makes the 1940 Blitz on London look like the Nazis didn’t even know the definition of strategy.

I declared to my parents that I had to set up meeting X with person Y before day Z, and that I need to apply to program G right away or journalist P will get the position and impress editor Q before I even get a chance. I issued ultimatums and outlined nonnegotiable, self-imposed timelines.

My parents stared at me wide-eyed and concerned — and for good reason. “What’s so urgent,” my dad asked in that way only dads can ask questions.

I was stunned. This question blew my mind more than when I found out Donald Trump’s hair is actually real. I didn’t have an answer. There is nothing about my current situation that demands urgency.

I’ll set up meetings with people who can help me; I’ll submit portfolios and applications before deadlines; I’ll remember to buy milk and bread opposed to living off of Taco Bell.

I’ll take it one step at a time. We’ll all take it one step at a time.

Life is changing for us right now, and life’s perpetual war is trying to outsmart change. But change is more clever than we are and it runs a hell of a lot faster, too.

I suppose the way to combat our collective insanity is to recognize that change doesn’t take kindly to our trying to micromanage it, and everything can’t happen for us right this minute. We can’t land a job right this minute. We can’t buy a car right this minute.

It’s okay if something happens tomorrow. It doesn’t mean you’re falling behind and it doesn’t mean you’re not doing enough. It just means that the situation isn’t nearly as urgent as we think it is.

A little patience and a deep breath seem to be the remedies for our psychosis.