age, adulthood and other horror stories
quarter life crisis: a memoir (+mini soundtrack)
(setting the mood: go listen to 30/90 from tick, tick… boom! and come back)
I do not feel my age. I do not feel my fucking age. I feel like I can never get to be an age appropriate version of me for the current life setting I’m in.
When I turned twenty it felt like turning eighteen only then.
“A second chance at my teenage years”, I called it.
Now that I’m twenty three I finally feel comfortable being in my twenties. Let me rephrase it: in my mind I just turned twenty years old, while actually in a couple more months my body will turn twenty four. Do you see the pattern?
I see it. Crystal clear.
It’s like life is a race and I’m not running fast enough and the only one I’m competing with is myself, or the age appropriate version of me I (probably) should be as of now.
Life goes by too fast and I can’t get even. Just when I take one step forward I realize I should be further on and now I’m four steps behind.
Is this how it will be?
I’m afraid I’m inadequate for adulthood, as if I missed some big essential lesson on the manual and now I’m juggling my way into life hoping I don’t fall and crumble.
You don’t understand. People see you having a quarter life crisis and think “oh it will pass, you’re still young, you’ll be fine” but when I say that I’m afraid I might not survive to adulthood I mean it quite literally.
Maybe there’s no finish line, no grand ending act, maybe there is just one life crisis after another. Maybe the only point to all of this is managing to cope with this feeling, trying to live with it, and not let it consume me.
(to go on: boho days from tick, tick… boom! now go survive)
