Tag this as: non-design-related-but-I’m-sure-many-designers-(& humans)-will-commiserate.
I recently wrote a post about how stress affects me and how I interact with others. You can also read it on Medium. Here is a preview…This most recent chunk of life I have encountered, or rather sought out, an unhealthy amount of stress. There is client work of course, but I’m not just talking about hashtag #freelancewoes. Things like starting a company, hosting design week events, maintaining Sloup, trips to San Francisco and to New York, relationships, emergency family trips to Oregon, letting go of relationships, lightly attending social functions, & convincing my parents I’m okay. And daily pressures such as watching 1/3 of my income going to taxes (seriously!!!!), wondering/worrying about what everyone else is thinking all of the time, and focusing on what’s in front of me.
So to back up a bit, you might have happened upon this post for a couple reasons: you were looking at my site to see if I am a good fit for a project you need help on, you’re for some reason still following me on twitter, or you are my friend from high school that just found out I’m a ‘graphic designer’ and you want to know what that means or if I’m any good. And so to you, possibly a stranger, I commend you for still reading this because either you enjoy welcoming anxiety into your life or you are my mom. I’m willing to bet you don’t care how busy I am, and actually you’re pretty busy too. And you probably think I was bragging a little bit about all that stuff and so now you especially feel turned off by just this whole thing.
Well, even though it is nothing but obvious that reading paragraph No. 1 would be unenjoyable for you, I still included it. And not just that, I spoke it to every soul I could find in a 10 block radius for the past few months. I was all running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off, yelling to everyone that my head was cut off. Really, it was all probably very unpleasant to interact with me at all.
A conversation with me lately would start with formalities that I would politely sit through if you would finish those up quickly, please. Then you would ask me how I am and it’s possible that I would tell you exactly how I am with no regard to whether or not you actually meant the question. And in great detail. And since ‘how I am’ was rotten and sad, you’d calmly sit through my ranting while I waited for the toxins to leave my body through way of human interaction and saturate your pores with unpleasantness. Then I’d forget or not care to ask you how you were doing. Then maybe I’d ask you a favor and you’d feel dumb for thinking that we were having a real conversation at all.
This is not a giant apology to you all. Truthfully, though I will happily admit guilt, I am owed the same acknowledgement from many, many people in my life who have committed the same injustice.