Infinite Jest and Infinite Problems

My latest task, in this Groundhog’s Day that has become my life, was to go through my library (my bookshelves) and see how many of my books I’ve actually read. Turns out around 130. So, I got to work on the 65 I haven’t opened yet. As of today, I’ve read ten including the largest book I’ve ever read in my life, Infinite Jest. A thousand plus page work of fiction, including notes, that people read more than once. I will not be one of them. (One and done for me thank you very much.) I get it though. When you get to the end, that offers little in clear concrete answers or conclusions (but with appreciated nods to George Orwell’s 1984, and Anthony Burgess’s A Clock Work Orange), it’s easy to flip back to the beginning and start over. The book starts about a year after it ends. It loops itself. The book itself is, arguably, infinite. Personally, I’m more impressed at the skill of it than the story in it. Unquestionably masterfully written (and originally 600 pages longer before they were cut. 500 of those said pages… were more notes!!!).

But I digress. The point (yes I had one!) was that even though I feared that “I had done all the things” that there were to do during this pause of normal life, it turns out there will always be more things. They are in fact infinite as well. So, I continue to stay busy doing what I can. Currently reading… so very very much. Classics, chick lit, YA, memoirs/biographies, collections of essays and short stories, etc. It doesn’t end. Just about every book I’ve read has added another book to the “to read” pile (they’re part of a series, or the authors just really great). These endless book nerd problems are the type of problems I can get behind.

Some other problems, not so much.

I learned something in the last couple months. For as much peace as I have with myself… as much as I felt I had accepted my faults and learned to love myself as the glorious flawed human being I am… it turns out there was still a hidden well, a deep well, of insecurities that I didn’t know the strength of until now. I am trying to come to a place of true self-acceptance (you know? That place that I thought I was at!!). I had assumed I outgrew these thoughts, these concerns about myself, about judgment and I guess on some level rejection. But as luck would have it these things too are fucking infinite. And all I can think to say about that, digging deep into my soul, being as philosophical as I can about it, using the most apt words that come rushing to me as an educated adult are…fuck this! When does it fucking end?!

There are so many things I’m afraid to try or do and my brain rationalized them all. Coming to the realization that I could do them, but that I just don’t is profoundly sad. And it is made even sadder when you take stock and take the deep examination into yourself as to why. In a million different cases I will bet on me. I know a thousand different situations that I can succeed in. I had come to think of myself as the women in those situations and rationalized that in the other cases the situations were the problem. Not me. But upon closer examination that is not the truth.

Case in point… I thought I wasn’t finishing the book I’ve been trying to write for years because “the time wasn’t right”. That’s how I was rationalizing it. The truth is I won’t finish my book because if it’s bad, if people don’t like it I will have failed at the one thing I thought I was exceptional at. The fear of finding out I’m bad at it is so crippling I don’t even try it. And this is only one example of many. Just the tip of my personal iceberg. I can’t handle the thought of failing. I can’t handle the thought of rejection. That fear is deep. That fear is rooted. That fear feels… infinite.

I also know it’s universal, It’s just human. But upon discovering this in myself recently my awareness of it is heightened. My evaluation of it personally is admittedly harsh, but ti's not unusual to be your own worst critic. So, my question is… is hope infinite as well? Because it doesn’t feel like it. Though when has hope ever been easier than fear. A whole corrupt political party took the hope trooping side down with a fear mongering sledgehammer not so long ago. (Although if you’re going to use politics as your baseline for anything you may as well just give up now). I know I should be finding some sort of triumph of the spirit message here… I’m just having trouble at the moment… and hoping I’m not infinitely lost.