A Quarter of a Life and What Do I Have to Show for It?

An understanding of three languages
A degree
A single published article
A group of friends who make me feel complete
A heart that's felt the wonder of love twice
A heart that's felt the dull ache left after (two) heartbreak(s)
A successful recovery from an eating disorder

There's probably more to this list, but at the moment, I don't feel much like celebrating. I'm not, in any way, ready for my 25th birthday. I thought I would have a lot more to show for my 25 years of life than what I have now. Wow. I sound like the world's biggest brat, but it's the simple truth.

And that's not to say that I don't appreciate all of the things I've been through and all of the wonderful things I've learned or obtained in my life. I'm thankful for every single blessing I have. But at the same time... at the same time... it's so easy to feel nothing.

When will I grow up? And I mean really grow up... Not this bullshit that I call "maturing" where I'm too chicken-shit to talk to guys or too anti-social to plan a fucking birthday party. God. I'm so pathetic. My girls keep texting and emailing, trying to see what and when and where we'll do and go and see, but I can't bring myself to care.

I wonder if this is a "me" thing or if every single human experiences this crippling feeling in their chests.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Wow.

My mind's really weird. I'll think one thing one minute, and the next it's as if there's a total stranger wandering around in my brain. I've heard we're all a bit like that. Weird, non? That's why I've decided to keep this blog. We're all weird. So if you can't shut your brain off at night, or you're just as confused by yourself as I am by me (if that makes any sense!), I welcome you to read on and tell me off, agree with me, whatevs. CIAO!
Read more

Perspective on my emotional hide and seek.

Most years we quietly celebrate Jenn's birthday; it's just us seven, we have some dinner, and then we go home. For her birthday this year, she asked one of her fellow nurses, Milly, to read our handwriting and interpret our personalities. Milly's interpretation of me was not that far off-base; she inferred that I'm reserved, prideful, loyal, hard-working, stubborn, and creative --- but she also told me that I can come off as "cold". Now, it's interesting to me that what stuck with me most is the fact she called me cold. Not the fact she correctly guessed that I like to feel people out before baring my thoughts to them. Not the fact she told me I'm creative, but am wasting my talents. Nope. What affected me most about her reading is that I can come off as cold to certain people. I've been called so many things in my life (haven't we all?), but the things I've been called in the past have always had a more... well, a positive spin. I...
Read more

Sometimes, like the times he does something surprisingly sweet, I think I'm falling for him.

But then I remember that I fall fast and hard like a rock you'd throw into the water, quickly sinking deeper and deeper. I remember that falling never, ever creeps up on me all of the sudden. I remember that I know - without a sliver of doubt - when I've fallen as soon as it happens, but can never see it coming. I remember that I can't stop it from happening and it literally leaves me short of breath like those times someone jumps out of corners to scare me. The feeling is exhilarating and frightening and, yes, even addictive. When I remember how I fall, I know I'm not falling in love and I can breathe a bit easier. Because falling in love has never been a positive experience. It's always ended and it's always hurt and it's always meant months and months and months and months of hurt.
Read more