You Can't Put the Toothpaste Back in the Tube

And you can't put shit back in the horse.

Oh my God, hi! What a coincidence seeing you again. You look taller, did you do something to your hair?! It’s been too long, let’s catch up.

I didn’t think it would be this long since I last posted. I didn’t even know I was off three months until I got a fatal email from Substack saying ‘We miss you’. Miss?! Oh, I can’t tell you what it feels like to be missed. I don’t care if it’s from an automated message. I had to come back, if only to get a congratulatory email saying ‘You did it. You wrote something! Even if it’s of 0 substance!’

Jokes aside, I told myself I would go with the flow when it came to how consistently I’d post on FC. If I’m being honest, the waves had me lost at sea for a little bit. That’s not to say I haven’t been writing. I’ve actually written a few stories here and there and even had an FC draft in the archive that could only be described as the most personal word vomit I could come up with… Exclusive content anyone? Just take me out to dinner first. Or hit subscribe. 

In an attempt to detach my feelings of utter despair from my writing, I wrote a draft titled ‘Books and Movies as Different Types of Cheeses’ which, I think you’ll agree, was not going to work. By the way, this was my good idea. I actually haven’t consumed anything in all of 2023 to talk about. No books, no movies, not even a magazine. I tried so hard but I think I’m aging backwards. Right now I’m at age five because the only book I’m finishing is one with pictures in it. So I’m actually going to talk about my lack of consumption, which is just as frivolous. Let’s get personal!

My Healthy Unhealthy Digital Detox

A few silly things happened in these short months and I’m not sure how to describe their effects on my personal perception of myself. It’s weird. I feel like a light switch turned on in my brain, except it never occurred to me that the lights were ever off, and I never noticed how bare it is in the room. But at the same time, I feel like it’s super cluttered. Like it’s all hidden in a closet that can take very little more.

To sort this clutter out, I deleted all socials and deactivated my Instagram account. And before I make myself sound like I’m better than you for doing so I’ll clarify: I am in fact better than you for doing so—it’s not just implied.

Usually when I notice I’m unhappy for reasons I can’t point out my first course of action is that I’m spending too much time on social media, and it’s making me feel horrible about myself and the time I’m wasting. This is partially true. When I have a social media app I like, I will have no control over it. I will be on it 24/7. 

So naturally it’s not the first time I’ve deleted these apps. The last time I did this ‘detox’ it was exactly what I needed; a time to do things I actually like and want to do, and figure out where I want to put my energy. When I returned, I was a lot more conscious of my scrolling habits and the reason for being on these apps. I realized quickly that cutting the problem from the root is usually the hard part. After that, you start to realize how out of sight, out of mind it all actually is. Life is clear again and it takes fewer things to make you happy.

OK OK you’ve made it this far so I might as well tell you the truth. This time I deleted it all and it solved absolutely 0 of my issues!!!!! Why????? BEcause now I have too much time to myself and my thoughts and actual feelings and I’m starting to realize I have tooooo many problems!! And so do you suckers!!!! 

It’s all a scam, don’t listen to the do-gooders. I’m too far in, but you have time to save yourselves. Social media is the beautiful distraction I needed from precisely what I’m running away from: myself. I want to see what other people are doing and thinking all the time because I’m not original enough to come up with my own opinions, I’m not interesting enough to keep myself entertained, and I have FOMO for reasons I hate to admit. 

Social media is a powerful tool depending on how you use it and I use it like a blunt knife. It’s my self-destruction tactic, and without it my alternative strategy is, naturally, to bully myself to no end. Overthink certain interactions, convince myself I am impossible to like, and gaslight myself into thinking none of my problems are real or worth moping about. All things I really don’t have time for but take up most of my day. Jeeeeez what a pity! For two years I believed I grew out of my ‘I hate everything about myself’ phase but it turns out I swept it all under the rug. 

Obviously, this isn’t a result of no social media, but I’ll admit that taking time off lets me acknowledge why I’ve been reacting to change like this. Over the last few weeks of being forced to live with my thoughts, I’ve obsessively asked ‘Who am I?’ in an attempt to recognize myself. Sometimes I am overconfident in who I am and who I want to be, and other days I am totally spiralling. I can never come up with a consistent answer, and I don’t consider other people's perceptions of me because I do not completely trust that I am myself around them. 

The Toothpaste Tube

The philosophy of Heraclitus is attributed to the concept of continuous movement. At its foundation is the saying: Panta rhei. Everything flows. If one thing is for certain in this world it is change. Plato describes the flux doctrine (the idea of ‘becoming’) through the saying, ‘No man ever steps in the same river twice’. Ever-present change is the fundamental essence of the universe, the way water is the ever-present change in a river. At its core, it’s still a river, but it would be lifeless without some sort of current. 

Being off socials means that most of my scrolling time is spent on my Photos app. Every day I look through pictures over the years and remember the different phases of my life: 2018, when all I cared about was academic praise, was filled with photos of whiteboards and notes. 2019, when I moved back to Canada, consisted of so many pictures of my neighbourhood trail (I couldn’t believe how green it was here). 2020 mostly contained photos of barbecues and kitchen appliances for work or selfies of me crying because I had no idea how to juggle work, school, and the isolation we all felt during the pandemic. 2021 had photos with people I grew so fond of, depicting connections I never thought I’d be able to cultivate in my life. Fast forward to 2022, where photos departure a time when I was the happiest I had ever been.

It’s crazy the vision hindsight gives you. Today I am in awe of my past self. I never gave myself credit for all the things I accomplished or all the little struggles I went through. In fact, I actually used to search for more problems to obsess over, like my weight and my appearance and how other people perceived me. Even during the moments I recognize my happiness, I ruin it by asking myself how long it would last, anxious for the inevitable drop. After looking through these photos, I really believe that part of our existence is self-inflicted suffering. Within those photos was a great person who wasted so much time because she couldn’t see it. I can’t even be cocky or pat myself on the back for being this person because it’s eons too late. It’s like praising your middle-aged kid for their 6th grade artwork.

I can’t tell you why I was so happy in the summer of 2022, but if I had to place bets it was because of the time I was forced to spend alone during the pandemic the year before. The following summer, I was on a study term and the most carefree in every sense of the word. For once I didn’t question my abilities or overthink conversations or care what others thought of me. Everything I did was for myself or the people that really deserved it. I respected myself a lot and acknowledged it without searching for a way to destroy that healthy self-image.

And now I can’t tell you why I’m struggling to be comfortable with myself in 2023, but if I had to place bets I would say it’s the fact that I do not handle change very well. Right now I visit the graveyard of my past selves almost daily. Over the past few weeks, I’ve had conversations with friends where we discussed what we might want to tell our past selves, and I thought about it a lot. When it came down to it, I wish I could tell her that she was her future self’s role model. 

I don’t know if you heard Matthew McConaughy’s 2014 Oscars speech, but to sum it down he basically says the complete opposite of this philosophy. To the question, ‘Who is your hero?’ McConaughy has and will always reply, ‘Me in 10 years’. And yet here I sit, wishing I could go back to that same carefree person I was in the Summer of 2022. My so-called ‘prime-time’, even though I’m barely in my 20s. 

When I admitted this (literally) backwards thinking to someone, their eyes bulged out: why the fuck would you want to go back?! Why on God’s green earth would you sacrifice the eight months of development, change, and growth to revert to someone who knew much less of the world?  What’s done can’t be undone and what’s felt can’t be unfelt.

This person is very right. Life moves forward: You can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube. A change in pressure and it will leak out, the way a change in our lives is what propels it forward. It is necessary, but only if you perceive it and use it like it is. Instead of letting that toothpaste fall into our sink or stain our clothes, we would much rather put it to good use. 

So in response to this, I’m rejecting my backwards thought process and actively working on growth in the face of change, big or small. It’s helpful to reposition your belief system to align with this. Instead of taking three steps backwards in the face of change, I now believe we are actually going through our own metaphysical homeostasis, where an agent of change skews us off course for a little while until we can learn from it and return to the equilibrium state of our ideal selves.

(Yet Another) Moment of Thanks

Unpacking my vulnerabilities to mutuals on the internet is not something I’m that into as a relatively private person. But to tell you the truth I could not write about anything else, and it’s part of the reason I’ve been offline for so long. Part of me hates that there is no more anonymity left to my work, although I do think it’s a necessary step in gaining confidence in my ability to write. Regardless of my lack of posts, I have had a lot of people mention that they’ve read some of my writing and it makes me embarrassingly happy. More than anything I’d like my writing to be a source of comfort for myself and others. Thanks to everyone that continuously supports my work.

Anyways, enough with the sappy stuff. For obvious reasons, I don’t have IG, so I fully expect you guys to be printing out flyers promoting this Substack. Say hi if you see me in a Newsies costume on campus shouting, ‘Extra! Extra!’.