Nothing is Wasted
Apr. 2nd, 2025 01:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lb_leeWe have lived through a lot, and many of those endeavors left us going, "Ugh, what a waste of time." Years of an education that didn't pan out, a slaughterhouse childhood, even the hours I spent farting around on the Internet... I could've used it so much better, right? What a waste.
But as I've aged, I've come to see that none of it was truly wasted.
But as I've aged, I've come to see that none of it was truly wasted.
Education, for instance. We originally studied to become a librarian... only to realize, 75% of the way through our education, that we only had enough money to just barely complete it (in a city and school that were both very bad fits), or to instead move to Boston, get a job, and transition. It was a hard choice to make, but we chose the latter, and when we got cut down by disability mere months after completing our transition, we were really fucking glad! ...but we also felt bad about that education that we "wasted." We were disabled, we never finished training, and we never would (because if we ever HAD the money to finish it, we would be in a financial position not to NEED it).
Well, it took fifteen years or so, but now we're a volunteer librarian for the sci-fi library and run![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
pluralstories. Not exactly the kind of librarianing we had in mind, all those years ago, but we are happy and fulfilled by the work. We are achieving the things we most cared about when we pursued that education in the first place! Not a waste, just long delayed and weirdly accomplished.
Dealing with all the soul scars was also a challenge. We were resentful about being forced to "live in the past," to constantly be thinking about our stupid pain, our stupid suffering. The past felt like a zombie that kept rising, again and again, no matter how many times we shot it in the head. It felt so self-centered. We had so little energy for other people. We hated it. How long would we be stuck like this?
Well, it's been a decade and we're nowhere near done. Memory work has become our new normal, and we are no longer nearly as exhausted by it as we used to be. And it too has become a door that opens outward: by dealing with our own pain, we can better understand others'. We treat ourselves and others better because: why should our psycosmic dead be trapped carrying our pain for our convenience? Why should I not help others with their own? The hard-won coping skills and sanity tools are things we now share with others.
I needed time to grieve the loss of those who brutalized me. By diving into that grief and embracing it, it naturally completed itself. I also needed time to be furious at those who brutalized me, and that too was valuable, but again, it completed itself. Eventually, those emotions were satisfied, leaving me room to wonder: why did they treat me this way? How did they justify it to themselves, and how were they able to achieve it? How could I prevent myself from following their footsteps? By studying, I was able to learn how cruelty and mistreatment work, which has not only helped abuse-proof ourself, but also helps us help others escape such situations.
Regrettably, our deep course of study into human douchebaggery has proven very useful with the most recent presidential election: we haven't been crushed by despair or overwhelm, because we understand these tactics and how to fight them. We have dealt with petty tyrants before, and that means we're more able to deal with a bigger one. Because we have laid a lot of triggers to rest and dug a lot of shrapnel out of our souls, it's harder to hurt us.
Even farting around on the Internet proved to be valuable: it was a sign of exhaustion, a need for rest. When it became a self-destructive habit, we learned how to break it and build new ones instead. (One of our roommates remarks with admiration, "You seem to have such a healthy relationship with your technology." We replied dryly, "It took years.") It also taught us about how technology can be used to harm us, and how that can be baked into the design for profit.
Nothing is wasted.
Well, it took fifteen years or so, but now we're a volunteer librarian for the sci-fi library and run
pluralstories. Not exactly the kind of librarianing we had in mind, all those years ago, but we are happy and fulfilled by the work. We are achieving the things we most cared about when we pursued that education in the first place! Not a waste, just long delayed and weirdly accomplished.Dealing with all the soul scars was also a challenge. We were resentful about being forced to "live in the past," to constantly be thinking about our stupid pain, our stupid suffering. The past felt like a zombie that kept rising, again and again, no matter how many times we shot it in the head. It felt so self-centered. We had so little energy for other people. We hated it. How long would we be stuck like this?
Well, it's been a decade and we're nowhere near done. Memory work has become our new normal, and we are no longer nearly as exhausted by it as we used to be. And it too has become a door that opens outward: by dealing with our own pain, we can better understand others'. We treat ourselves and others better because: why should our psycosmic dead be trapped carrying our pain for our convenience? Why should I not help others with their own? The hard-won coping skills and sanity tools are things we now share with others.
I needed time to grieve the loss of those who brutalized me. By diving into that grief and embracing it, it naturally completed itself. I also needed time to be furious at those who brutalized me, and that too was valuable, but again, it completed itself. Eventually, those emotions were satisfied, leaving me room to wonder: why did they treat me this way? How did they justify it to themselves, and how were they able to achieve it? How could I prevent myself from following their footsteps? By studying, I was able to learn how cruelty and mistreatment work, which has not only helped abuse-proof ourself, but also helps us help others escape such situations.
Regrettably, our deep course of study into human douchebaggery has proven very useful with the most recent presidential election: we haven't been crushed by despair or overwhelm, because we understand these tactics and how to fight them. We have dealt with petty tyrants before, and that means we're more able to deal with a bigger one. Because we have laid a lot of triggers to rest and dug a lot of shrapnel out of our souls, it's harder to hurt us.
Even farting around on the Internet proved to be valuable: it was a sign of exhaustion, a need for rest. When it became a self-destructive habit, we learned how to break it and build new ones instead. (One of our roommates remarks with admiration, "You seem to have such a healthy relationship with your technology." We replied dryly, "It took years.") It also taught us about how technology can be used to harm us, and how that can be baked into the design for profit.
Nothing is wasted.
