quarter-life crisis
So, yay. Apparently I'm not even 25 yet and I'm already going through my quarter-life crisis.
Ever since I turned 24 last September, I've felt positively ancient. I know that the people on my friendslist who are older than me probably think this is ridiculous, and the thing is, I know they're right. But I don't know what it is -- for the past year or so, I've been super aware of the issues of aging and dying. Maybe it's because I moved out of my parents' house, and I've realized that my parents and I are all growing older, and my family dog died and it's made me even more aware that my childhood is over. I don't know what it is. But I do know that I think about death and aging way more than is usual or necessary for someone my age.
Nearly every day I think about the following things: my parents dying; myself dying; my friends dying; my future spouse dying; and all of us aging and turning into shells of what we once were. I think part of the reason why I have such morbid thoughts is that I see a lot of elderly people come into my work, some of them barely able to walk or function anymore, and it just makes me so sad. In recent years I've also watched my parents lose their parents to old age and disease -- both my grandmothers died within exactly two years of each other, and my maternal grandfather has been dead for forty years -- so I can't help but think of what it will be like for me when I go through the same thing. It's too scary for me to contemplate. The thought of anyone I love growing old -- getting grey hair and wrinkles, losing their liveliness and health -- just scares the shit out of me.
And I think the reason why I feel old, at the ripe age of 24, is because time has gone by so fast since I was a teenager. When I was a kid, time just seemed to drag on. But I remember so clearly being 15, 17, 19; then I started college, and I feel like I blinked and all of a sudden I'm turning 25. If ten years can fly by that quickly, then that's pretty fucking frightening. Plus, we live in such a youth-obsessed culture where anyone above a certain age is just seen as useless, unhip, unsexy. I look at myself in the mirror sometimes, and I see laugh lines / crow's feet forming around the corners of my eyes, see the way the years have already made their mark on my skin, and I feel like a shriveled up old maid.
And I'm going through the crisis of feeling like I haven't accomplished anything I meant to accomplish by this age. Yes, I finished college, which is a wonderful feat that I'm very proud of -- but I'd hoped to actually be going somewhere with my writing by now. I'm really happy about the fact that I've been working so faithfully on my novel, but at the same time I also keep comparing myself to artists I admire, writers and musicians, and many of them were already starting their careers and becoming successful at my age. I know "comparisons are odious," as they say, and everyone achieves success at different periods in their lives -- but I already feel like a never-was. I'm sure that part of it is that I'm just working a service industry job and writing right now; if I were in grad school and were busy getting my foot in the door of the publishing industry, I might have more external measures of success, things I could actually show people that would prove how ambitious I am. But right now, all the success I have is hidden inside myself, in the book that hasn't taken complete form yet but I'm determined to finish.
I also worry that, because I've always been the homebody type that would, in general, rather have a quiet night at home and read/write/listen to music rather than go out, I haven't taken advantage of my youth the way I should have, and haven't lived life to its fullest. I'm scared to death of turning 45 and realizing that I never let myself have any fun. I often wish I could de-age and go back to being 19 again so I could erase some of these regrets that I have.
I know that I need to make peace with the inevitabilities of aging and dying, and to stop being so hard on myself. I didn't used to be this freaked out about it, and I wish I could just get over it. But I don't know how to do that. I don't know what's wrong with me that my own mortality (and that of others I love) has become such a morbid obsession as of late.
Ever since I turned 24 last September, I've felt positively ancient. I know that the people on my friendslist who are older than me probably think this is ridiculous, and the thing is, I know they're right. But I don't know what it is -- for the past year or so, I've been super aware of the issues of aging and dying. Maybe it's because I moved out of my parents' house, and I've realized that my parents and I are all growing older, and my family dog died and it's made me even more aware that my childhood is over. I don't know what it is. But I do know that I think about death and aging way more than is usual or necessary for someone my age.
Nearly every day I think about the following things: my parents dying; myself dying; my friends dying; my future spouse dying; and all of us aging and turning into shells of what we once were. I think part of the reason why I have such morbid thoughts is that I see a lot of elderly people come into my work, some of them barely able to walk or function anymore, and it just makes me so sad. In recent years I've also watched my parents lose their parents to old age and disease -- both my grandmothers died within exactly two years of each other, and my maternal grandfather has been dead for forty years -- so I can't help but think of what it will be like for me when I go through the same thing. It's too scary for me to contemplate. The thought of anyone I love growing old -- getting grey hair and wrinkles, losing their liveliness and health -- just scares the shit out of me.
And I think the reason why I feel old, at the ripe age of 24, is because time has gone by so fast since I was a teenager. When I was a kid, time just seemed to drag on. But I remember so clearly being 15, 17, 19; then I started college, and I feel like I blinked and all of a sudden I'm turning 25. If ten years can fly by that quickly, then that's pretty fucking frightening. Plus, we live in such a youth-obsessed culture where anyone above a certain age is just seen as useless, unhip, unsexy. I look at myself in the mirror sometimes, and I see laugh lines / crow's feet forming around the corners of my eyes, see the way the years have already made their mark on my skin, and I feel like a shriveled up old maid.
And I'm going through the crisis of feeling like I haven't accomplished anything I meant to accomplish by this age. Yes, I finished college, which is a wonderful feat that I'm very proud of -- but I'd hoped to actually be going somewhere with my writing by now. I'm really happy about the fact that I've been working so faithfully on my novel, but at the same time I also keep comparing myself to artists I admire, writers and musicians, and many of them were already starting their careers and becoming successful at my age. I know "comparisons are odious," as they say, and everyone achieves success at different periods in their lives -- but I already feel like a never-was. I'm sure that part of it is that I'm just working a service industry job and writing right now; if I were in grad school and were busy getting my foot in the door of the publishing industry, I might have more external measures of success, things I could actually show people that would prove how ambitious I am. But right now, all the success I have is hidden inside myself, in the book that hasn't taken complete form yet but I'm determined to finish.
I also worry that, because I've always been the homebody type that would, in general, rather have a quiet night at home and read/write/listen to music rather than go out, I haven't taken advantage of my youth the way I should have, and haven't lived life to its fullest. I'm scared to death of turning 45 and realizing that I never let myself have any fun. I often wish I could de-age and go back to being 19 again so I could erase some of these regrets that I have.
I know that I need to make peace with the inevitabilities of aging and dying, and to stop being so hard on myself. I didn't used to be this freaked out about it, and I wish I could just get over it. But I don't know how to do that. I don't know what's wrong with me that my own mortality (and that of others I love) has become such a morbid obsession as of late.