May 3rd, 2023

The sun descended like a guillotine, marking the end of Julian’s day as a freelance graphic designer. Julian often felt trapped by the demands of his clients. His dream job had been reduced to the endless critiquing of design illiterates selling useless products in a world full of trash. He was still a wage slave, even though he didn’t occupy an office or work normal hours. There was no escape from the culture of capitalism.

At least at work he could fully occupy his mind with fresh ideas and answers to design problems. Theirs were simpler problems, ones he knew the answer to. Beauty is defined by laws, balances, and formulas. Very unlike the guerrilla tactics employed by his thoughts. Nightly the flood gates would inevitably open and the changing of the guard brought an onslaught of anxiety.

It was Wednesday, and Julian finished work later than usual due to a client’s unscheduled and non-billable phone call.

“Hello Julian! So glad I caught you. I just got a chance to review the prototype of the logo. I want you to know, I think you’re so talented and I’m so honored to be working with you but I don’t know, it’s just not ‘cool’ enough. It needs to appeal to Millennial's but still be timeless enough that Gen Z doesn’t think it’s lame. I posted this job on Fiverr to see what other designers came up with, and I’d like you to emulate some of their designs. I’m open to your take though…just not this one.”

“I appreciate your feedback. We’ll find the right vision. It’s normal to go back and forth for a while. I’m happy to look at these other designers’ work, but I don’t feel comfortable copying anyone’s designs. We’d need to make sure they have no ownership of the design or that could cause legal issues.”

“Oh yeah, of course.”

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’m running late for an appointment and will definitely have some new prototypes to show you at the end of the week.” Actively working to hide his exasperation now, he resists the urge to just hang up the phone.

As if they completely didn’t hear that he’s running late or believe him they bumbled on, “Thank you Julian. You have all my trust, my vision is in your hands. This business is my life you know? I wish I could have bought my product when I was depressed after my second child. No one else out there sells custom embroidered onesies postpartum or offers new mothers the online community I’m envisioning. Few people understand the horrors a woman’s body goes through after birth.”

“Absolutely. I understand! I can appreciate what you’re trying to do and I’m happy to be a part of it. Well, I am heading out the door. It was great talking to you.” 

Julian didn’t appreciate what they were trying to do, and he wasn’t happy to be a part of it. The client wasn’t so bad, and neither was their business, but yet, Julian felt what he felt with an added tinge of guilt. 

Am I supposed to be like this?

What does ‘supposed’ mean? Who determines what I’m supposed to be like?

Julian closes his eyes, inhales deeply, and shakes his head in exasperation. It’s now 6:02pm, and he’s two minutes late to his therapy appointment despite it being virtual. He goes from his desk to the living room, opens his laptop on his lap and jumps into the video call.

“Sorry I’m late! Had a client who needed to vent. Can you hold on a sec? I just want to grab a small snack if you don’t mind. I haven’t eaten much today.”

“Absolutely, that’s fine,” chirps his therapist. Sandra wears here hair up in a french twist at every weekly appointment. She’s beautiful, middle-aged, and has a maternal way about her. Julian chose her as his therapist specifically because his relationship with his own mother was not ‘great’. She was a bit of a stand-in.

“So, how was your week Julian? I hope better than the last?” Looking down at her notes, “I believe we left off with you wanting to set better working hours for yourself and you had a date you were looking forward to right? How did that go?”

“Oh yeah. I forgot about that,” Julian lived in the day to day. Time was passing without him.

“Must not have been that great then.”

“Well, we just didn’t vibe. I could see she was disappointed when she saw me. I think she just kept the date going for a few free drinks. She was really pretty, but the conversation didn’t flow. I’m glad I put myself out there though.” 

Are you actually glad you put yourself out there? Sometimes things just don’t ‘vibe’ at first. Vibe was a stupid word to use in a therapy appointment. Maybe if you kept trying things could have improved? You always give up on things and that’s why you feel so shitty. 

Please stop…

“I’m glad you did too. I know we have talked about your wanting a partner before. This one wasn’t that but maybe the next one! What about the working hours?”

Julian continues, “As far as working hours, I guess its the discipline I’m lacking. Since I make my own schedule I find myself working more when I’m anxious about money. For example, we are nearing the end of the month, rent is due, and so I’m just crunching a bit but once rent is paid I have no desire or motivation to work the same hours.”

“I understand that,” Sandra says compassionately. “Maybe having some goals or milestones on the horizon will help you delay some of that instant gratification. Does anything come to mind?”

“Ummm, well…I guess not. I don’t know, it’s just hard to see the future right now. I have to keep working, and this is the highest dollar per hour I can get right now. I want to meet someone, I guess. I’d like to be comfortable monetarily…so I guess working a bit more steadily. I mean, what I want is more of a feeling. I just don’t know which goal will get me where I want to go. I want to feel happy and fulfilled. I’m open to what that looks like. Maybe that means being a professional bonsai trainer, or maybe a greeter at the natural history museum? I have no idea. It seems like some people just ‘know’ what they want to do. I guess I’m just not like that. I’m just really thankful that I was able to get a degree and have my current job. So many people I know are getting laid off.”

“Maybe you can start thinking about the future more. Just be curious if something comes up. How’s everything else? Anything new to report?”

Julian hesitates. “I just don’t feel great. I feel this sort of suffocating pit in my chest and it goes up to my throat and back down again. It’s pretty constant unless I’m distracted. But I’m gong to start working out and eating healthy. Maybe these moods are because my gut-biome is off. I keep getting instagram ads for probiotics. I’m enthusiastic that it could subside if I just keep working at it.”

“Me too, you have such a great attitude Julian. It’s always a pleasure.”

Julian closes his laptop, stares across the room at nothing and begins to sob. It starts slow and he decides to lean into it. He cries so much it’s hard to breath and then he knows it’s time to reel it in. Lately, therapy makes him feel more alone. You can talk about it, write about it, but ultimately you’re the only one feeling it. You are responsible for making it stop.

Congrats, you get an A+ in therapy. You did such a good job. His brain chortles mockingly.

Why am I like this?

It’s because you didn’t pick the fine arts route. You really loved it and you didn’t give it a chance!

Julian has wondered this a dozen times. Each time he does, he feels waves of goosebumps across his arms. 

“Here we go,” he says aloud.

Yeah but I did give it a chance? I didn’t love the class I took and I’ve never been the artist type! 

What about Anna? You let her slip away. You guys were such great friends, it could have been a perfect match, but you didn’t take that chance, like you always do. Overthinking things.

Wait a minute, I did like Anna but we just weren’t attracted to each other.

Oh yeah, it was because you have a thing for big boobs and Anna wasn’t up to snuff.

This thought made Julian furious. He feels the cortisol coursing through his body.

THAT IS NOT WHY! THAT IS NOT TRUE AND I HATE YOU FOR TALKING ABOUT ONE OF MY OLDEST FRIENDS LIKE THAT! Maybe in another life I’m not like this, I’m ‘okay’.

Those words that where meant to comfort, fell flat upon the void within. The idea he could be happier in another life hurt, because that was not the life he was occupying. 

Okay, okay. We need to turn this around. I’m not engaging in this interchange anymore.

Julian’s frontal lobe starts to kick in. 

What can I do right now that’s different? I could watch a comedy special? Just try and laugh for a while. I could call a friend? Man I don’t want to do that. That’s probably best though.

Julian picks up his phone and called the first person who came to mind - Jeremy Sullivan. Jeremy was not necessarily super close to Julian but he had expressed interest in having more male friends to ‘open up’ to. He texted him first, “Hey, do you have a minute to chat?” 30 minutes, no response.

Determined not to end this night inside his thoughts again. He gets up off the couch before he can change his mind, whips his coat on, grabs his keys and quickly heads outside. It’s fully dark out but his neighborhood is full of life still. He lives in an apartment building on the third floor. He goes down the steps with purpose though he has no idea where he’s going. Anywhere must be better. On the corner there’s a bar. He’s not the type to approach people but just overhearing them and being in a different atmosphere should rid him of the inner plague.

He buys the cheapest beer they have and sits at the bar. To the right he overhears two women hyping each other up about how great they look and how tonight is what they have both been needing. To the left are two other men, who seem to be solo like him. Julian could feel the tension between the men, they likely all needed a good chat.

“What are you drinking?”

“I don’t know honestly, the bartender is my friend and he just brings me his ‘creations’.”

They carried on back and forth, eventually bringing in the man farthest from Julian. Ultimately, the conversation was light, but just feeling seen filled him up. Seeing himself through the eyes of a stranger was comforting. He was redeemable. Things weren’t so bad. He was back above water.

Maybe in THIS life.