Peak Experiences From Someone Who Hates Life

graphic by Honey Simatupang

I have vivid memories of losing my mother in the grocery store as a child. As my sister and I would wander aimlessly down an aisle, distracted by the latest fruit snack or Kraft Mac and Cheese pasta shape, we would blink and she was gone. My sister would grab my small hand and drag me down each aisle, as I would go into a state of grave anxiety. Sweat collected in my palms. My heart leaped into my throat. Fat tears would roll down my cheeks. Even after asking the nice worker at the front to announce on the loudspeaker our location and my mother would come collect us, I would cling onto her, trembling. 

For as long as I could remember, I’ve always been an anxious person. It dominates every aspect of my life, social and academic, and finds unique ways to permeate inconveniences into my quotidian routine. This paired with occasional bouts of sadness has produced a jaded girl at the ripe age of 18. As much as I love my lovely friends and family, reading outside on a bench with an iced latte, and Trader Joe’s Scandinavian Swimmers, life has always been a difficult thing for me to swallow. Of course, akin to human nature, I persevere and I’m proud of myself for that. Yet when there are days where my bones turn into lead and I’m anchored between my comforter all day, moving only to shift away from daylight, I have to grasp at the moments in time when my body was light and free of the shackles of my brain.

Psychologist Andrew Maslow is notable for his theory on motivation called the hierarchy of needs, which outlines categories that define human behavior. This is defined by physiological, love, esteem, and safety needs. However, the top of the pyramid includes self-actualization needs, or the need to reach one’s true potential, which are primarily formed by peak experiences. These experiences are defined as moments of pure bliss and exhilaration. In other words, they are the brief glimpses in life in which an individual reaches Nirvana. This is the only categorization of the term and you yourself have some under your belt, whether you may realize it or not. They come in big and small moments in life, but are fleeting. 

I can think of flashes from my own time on earth that fall under these categorizations. Smaller moments that flood my brain like driving on the 101 with my twin sister, belting out cheesy, bubblegum pop music with the windows down and the sun dipping into the ocean before our eyes. Watching Criminal Minds with my mother, hiding the television from my eyes with my popcorn bowl. Eating pho with my friends, crowded around a table too small for all us as steam fills our pores and broth fills our bellies. Conversing with my father while we get car washes, advice that drips with rainbow soap. Going to Philz Coffee with my laptop in tow, listening to conversations that I’m not a part of while sipping an iced coffee. Sitting in the back seat of my car at my favorite beach in San Diego, sharing a blanket and going out to sink my feet into the sand. FaceTiming with my older sister, hearing about what the world is doing three hours ahead of me. Studying in an intricate library, pretending to write and focusing more intently on looking mysterious. Going out with friends to nothing in particular but dance and make fools of ourselves. Walking around a dark campus, the only motive in mind being to talk and connect with another human being. Watching a movie in a theater, studying the faces that light up with the projections and the characters that entice them into the silver screen. 

But I believe melancholy is equally as pure and ethereal. Because I can find peak experiences in the nights in which I lay on my floor staring at my ceiling for hours straight listening to a (relatively) concerning Spotify playlist. There’s beauty in the hours of sitting in my car and weeping until my eyes are red and dry and itchy. I can be patient with myself as I feel myself grow and aid myself through the pains assisting that phenomenon. These moments of joy are hidden in plain sight in the moments of despair. After all, how inexplicably cool is it that we as humans can cry when the boy doesn’t get the girl in the movie or when your teacher doesn’t like the concept of your term paper or when your parents yell at you or when that text gets left on delivered just a little too long. We have this unique capability to feel, I mean really feel and develop connections to one another and other intangible concepts and things. After serious consideration, I’ve decided these too are peak experiences -- rather, they are your hollow experiences.  

I suppose what I’m trying to say is that life is worth living, to put it bluntly, solely for those moments that fill your entire soul with warmth and make you glow from the inside out. The moments that make you laugh until your ribcage aches and the times where you feel as though it’s physically impossible for you to sob anymore, as both are beautiful. Although the other needs Maslow indicates such as freedom, water, health, and friendship are essential, these times are what brings colors into our lives and gives us a sense of purpose and clarity. The only thing I can hope is that you experience it, in times where it's obvious and in times where it’s obvious weeks later.