OK, guess I'll be the first to actually let it out.
The bad years were 2000-2002. Crammed a lot of bad into that little span. I ruined my credit through not having the cojones to boot a string of worthless roommates. Still recovering from that. Spent too much time and money in the pursuit of chemically altered states; while some of the experiences I had were truly worth it, the
vast majority weren't, and I came perilously close to getting myself into real trouble. In small part due to that but in large part due to other factors, I lost sight of myself and my standards, by reason of which I now exist as a monster in the mind of someone whose opinion shouldn't matter to me anymore but still does.
Mind you, those years had high points that are hard to match. I landed a job in one of the best clubs on the east coast and learned for the first time what it's like to truly love what you do and the people you do it with. I got myself a family there (and nearly lost them through my stupid behavior). I had experiences I still can't quite believe I had; all I have to do now when I'm feeling down is remember some of what went on there, and I start to smile. It was such a nothing job, but it taught me so much! Above all, it caused me to grow a heeYOOJ pair of balls that have stood me in good stead ever since.
In 2003 I conceded defeat and moved back home. It healed my soul. I strengthened ties with my parents, with whom I've never actually been close (not for any dramatic or nefarious reasons; we're just very different people doing very much our own thing all the time). Six weeks later I met the man I married in 2006, getting myself a husband who's the envy of all my friends and the most stellar cast of in-laws the world has ever seen. I broadened my professional horizons and earned myself more stories, more scars, and a handful of lasting friendships. I deepened existing friendships exponentially.
I also, thanks to the internet, located every. single. one. of my long-lost favorite people, including four Swedes who had been nothing but a warm memory for 12 years and my oldest, dearest friend from high school. He popped up three years ago and I still occasionally find myself breathless with the good fortune of having him back in my life.
I got to do a bit of travel, some extemporaneous, some planned. Two trips to Holland (with a side trip to the Roskilde festival in Denmark--win!), a trip to Tuscany. In all three trips I got to spend time with locals--friends in Holland and Denmark, and my husband's family in Tuscany--and discovered that I'd much rather park my feet under a table where no one speaks my language than spend my days checking off all the tourist must-sees. I also did a bit of spontaneous travel within the U.S. and discovered that there's nothing better than seizing an opportunity to GTFO for a couple of days.
Having learned the importance of having faith in myself, my intelligence, and my creative impulses, I decided to rescue myself from a working situation I've grown to hate by creating my own job running a nonprofit organization I'm starting with a friend. I'm also writing a book that will probably never see the light of day, but if it does, it will remove a tiny bit of misinformation and misconception from the world.
So what have I learned from this stupid decade?
That my driving force is getting to the truth of things. That I'd rather do cool things than have cool things. That there's something worth knowing in just about everybody; it's just that sometimes you have to dig for it, and it's often not worth the effort. That it's possible to distance yourself from a bad situation by simply refusing to participate in it (or, in the case of George Bush's America, abide by its stupid rules). I've also learned the arts of self-forgiveness and letting go.