There are going to be some night when you don’t feel like going to the party. So don’t go to the party. Let everyone else have their existential discussions about free will and the decay of the universe over cocktails. Stay home and read through your book collection instead; you’ll have more fun getting into Fitzgerald’s head than making awkward small talk with your nearest conversational partner.
For God’s sake, people at the party will be talking about how Sally hooked up with Andrew but Andrew already made out with Valeria from Italy and now Sally isn’t sure whether to tell Andrew that the baby is his. You’ll be relaxing at home in sweats and eating microwavable stew straight from the container. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to stay in and stay away from the world. You’re not an introvert just because you want some alone time; there’s no shame in needing quiet.
There will be days, too, when the alarm clock goes off on a Saturday morning at nine and you were supposed to weed the garden or go jogging or something of the like. Hit the snooze button. It’s alright to sleep in once in awhile, to press the pillow over your ears and roll over. Or maybe your mom wanted you to meet up with her and some of her business partners to discuss your plans for law school. Screw that. If you don’t want to go to law school, don’t go to law school!
Maybe you want to go to art school instead and make drip paintings like Jackson Pollock or smear the canvas with beautiful, colorful oils like van Gogh, minus the sadness. So go ahead. There’s nobody in your way but you. The people you meet at art school will wear paint-stained jeans and messy buns, or scuffed-up Keds and heavy metal t-shirts. You can hold conversations with them for hours about Georgia O’Keefe or mixed-media, found object art, instead of sitting in a tight suit at the head of a conference table with four men and women twice your age. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with law school, but screw law school if you don’t want to go there.
When the neighborhood kids ask you if you want to go out for a few drinks at the downtown bar, maybe you’d rather curl up on the sofa with your mom and watch reruns of Friends. So skip the offer. Say Hey, that’s okay. Maybe another time. Your mom will be glad to spend a little more time with you before you go off to college. And breaking news, you can actually have more fun sober with your own mom than with a bunch of kids who don’t even know your name.
It’s okay to want to smash the mirror in every time you look at it, or have the urge to swallow every pill in the medicine cabinet. It’s okay to stay in bed for twelve hours straight, to stare out the window at nothing. Everybody has bad days and everybody feels things. Feelings are, apparently, a radical notion. Most people haven’t heard of them. If somebody’s having a bad day they call them selfish, when maybe they’re just having a bad day. If someone’s quiet in Philosophy class the teacher automatically labels them as an introvert, when maybe they just don’t like the teacher. Maybe Philosophy isn’t their thing. And that’s completely fine. There’s nothing wrong with feeling crappy and miserable and pent-up and bored and anxious. Don’t let anyone judge you as anything less just because you feel things.
Remember that this is your life and these are your things and this is your room and your guitar and your bed and your teddy bear from second grade. This is your camera and your sweatshirt and your Black Keys poster. Nobody can ever take this away from you.
This is your life and you can choose to live it how you want to. The world’s not going to end if you do; there won’t be another Maya apocalypse prediction. An asteroid isn’t going to hit earth; there won’t be any swarms of insects to infest your town and kill off half the population.
Do what feels good and the rest will come.