What the f*** is wrong with me?

As I turn 26 and approach my late 20s, the time has come for my annual reflection. 

Year 25 proved very eventful and impactful, setting the stage for an influential year 26.

So much happened with so much willingly left undocumented.

 

I began the year as an entrepreneur, starting a venture I thought I would be in for a long time.

I thought the risk, the bet, and the work required would unlock the next level of professional and personal growth for me. 

Not having a consistent income became one of my biggest motivators as it would be a significant change from what I have become accustomed to the past few years. After all, I do my best work when I have no other option but to give it my all.

I thought that decision would require me to focus solely on my work, make me feel the hunger I once had, and force me to change my lifestyle.

 

A year later, I have mixed emotions.

 

Professionally, I could not ask for more. I learned a ton. I enjoyed the work. I’m proud of what came from our efforts to establish our company and deliver impactful work to our clients.

I expedited my professional growth by doing a lot of work I probably would not have done for another couple of years had I stayed in a familiar corporate setting.

It also gave me a newfound sense of freedom, but I realized that I need to learn much, much more to be the best I can be in this pursuit.

There’s no substitute for experience, and I believe I can be more effective doing what I was doing later in my career with more of what I lack: experience. So I will go and get more of that.

 

Personally, however, I was wrong.

I would say I have pretty good discipline… but the last year has been anything but that.

I can resist so many things.

So many foods. Sweets.  Societal expectations, friends, peer pressure. Even money.

 

But this past year, I succumbed to distractions, bent my principles, indulged, and justified my actions. When I thought I’d be focused, I became the opposite.

My lifestyle didn’t change. Or barely. Or maybe even for the worse.

 

While I reduced the number of new restaurants I tried, I still went out to eat.

I still went to Warriors games, concerts, and various events.

I bought new earrings because even though I stopped wearing earrings a couple of years ago, I thought I couldn’t go back to wearing zirconias if I ever wanted to put jewelry on. Now, I have more earrings than piercings in my ears. Although I like wearing them, they’re unnecessary, and I could go without gems or metals on my ears… but now I won’t.

I bought shoes—extras of the ones I already have—that I probably won’t wear for months, most likely a year or more, so I can wear my existing pairs without worrying about getting them dirty.

I bought new clothes because I like to be stylish and care about my appearance, though not in a manner that would reflect vanity.

I got a new car. I upgraded from my old one. Because… I thought it was a no-brainer.

I even went on a vacation.

 

It felt like nothing changed. I didn’t feel restricted. At all.

 

The worst of all, the horology bug bit me. I got into watches. I bought more watches than I have wrists to put them on.

There’s something about looking into a dial—blue, black, hazel—watching the hands move, hearing just the slightest of sounds, if any, as if it was telling me it wants to feel how my wrist would feel on its caseback, with sub-dials of various sizes and functions that makes me want to see how it would look and experience how it would feel wrapped around my wrist.

The movement of each watch, the luster of its bezel, the way its strap complements its dial, and how I connected with each watch added to its allure.

Despite its various distinctions—how dainty or gaudy the strap is, how shiny or matte the bezel is, how reflective or subtle the dial is, how intricate or minimalistic the design is—each watch does the exact same thing: tells the time. 

It felt as if all year, every time I found a watch I liked, it was telling me to do something… that I also wanted to do… and I couldn’t help but oblige.

While the purpose is accomplished all the same, each watch’s unique path to achieve what it was produced for makes it worth the investment. Some watches are more aesthetically pleasing, and some feel better to wear. Some you want to wear at home, some for special occasions, and rarely does one find a watch fit for any and every occasion, with a design, material, movement, feel, and connection that resonates wholeheartedly.

 

Year 25 was fine… in a way. It wasn’t wildly successful, but it was nowhere near a failure.

I lived a life, albeit a bit too comfortable for my taste, without worrying about anything too much.

I did anything I wanted. And people have told me I should be happy, I should be proud, I should be enjoying and living.

But I am not. 

 

Objectively, it was a solid year. Subjectively? It could have been a lot better.

There’s a massive disconnect between what happened and what I did to what I think should have happened and should have done, despite what appears to be a pretty good year.

 

Therefore, as the title of this reflection, I wonder what the fuck is wrong with me?

I miss that single-minded focus I possessed.

I miss grinding for the things I want to have.

I miss that drive I had that made everything else that wasn’t the goal irrelevant.

 

The fact, however, is that I am in this situation now because of all of the work I have done in the past.

I’m actually growing. I’m actually progressing. I’m actually improving.

And I can’t hate myself, or on myself, for doing that. 

 

It’s not the best situation, nor is it the worst. It’s just causing a lot of dissonance.

 

I didn’t care for watches. I didn’t care so much about jewelry. I didn’t care so much about shoes.

I never wanted to take vacations!

I didn’t care so much about pleasure because I was too fixated on my purpose… which I think I have now lost.

 

Maybe I’m regressing first before I exponentially grow. I hope that is it.

I’ve spent the past couple of months reflecting, thinking, and pondering, doing everything I can to understand myself better and prepare for what I want to be next.

I’ve been on a break for two months now, and I am ending that break with this reflection to embark on something new and begin the next chapter of my life.

 

I can’t be disappointed with how my life is because I worked for it.

At one point, the life I am living now was just a goal. And now, that goal is my reality. 

And that feels pretty good. I can’t say I hate it because I don’t.

 

I can, however, be disappointed with my lifestyle because I am the one making the decisions on how I live it. I can be better. I will be better.

 

Self-imposed limitations are always better than external forces.

Hence, I am giving myself one. I am going to limit myself.

I am calling it my monk mode. Effective indefinitely.

 

I don’t need to provide any amusement or enjoyment.

I don’t need to receive any amusement or enjoyment.

Just because I can does not mean that I should.

I can and continuously resist many things that bring only temporary and instant joy.

 

It’s all or nothing.

 

And since I have accomplished my earlier goals, I am choosing to have nothing… 

I did my best work when I had nothing. I am now choosing to act as if I have nothing.

Until I can accomplish all of my new goals. Until I can fully reset my expectations, my tastes, my perspective, and my lifestyle.

 

I am choosing to live a virtuous life as a hedonistic one did not fulfill me as I thought it would.

I am chasing purpose. I am focusing on what matters most.

I am chasing all that is purposeful and neglecting everything that falls short of having it all.

 

No more distractions to succumb to, no more principles bent, no more indulging in what is pleasurable, and no more justifying actions. It’s all or nothing through and through.