No, not “that” number 45 (doubt I will ever get into politics on here). Earlier this week, that became my new age.
Only my two remaining closest immediate family members (mother and grandmother) remembered, though I expected that since I haven’t kept anyone else close enough in my life to.
With as pronounced as this midlife crisis is becoming, I was glad to get this birthday behind me. But it was still another reminder of everything in front of me. Having to find a new job, new city, (hopefully) new and improved habits. At a stage in life when many people have found stability, I have nothing but a huge self-rebuilding project and plenty of necessary change to deal with.
And the problem is…..I barely even care enough to try and get all that off the ground. When I’ve failed badly before, there was much solace in knowing that I still had most of my adult years left to rebound (and you could try and chalk away some of it to youthful mistakes). But this time, there are no excuses. There is no remaining youth to enjoy any goals that might be reached. And there isn’t nearly as much that I can do with my future (career and otherwise) than there used to be.
It’s very humbling, troubling, and uncomfortable. And a little scary. To know that you can’t continue to survive living this way, but for the first time in your life, you don’t see a light at the end of the tunnel (that may finally motivate some change).
So I’m really not sure if I’ll find a way to hang on (or even improve), or just continue to fall apart even further and the let the “midlife” part the crisis become permanent.
I’d like to be optimistic about it, but I’ve never really had the strength to consistently battle my demons before. So I don’t know.
I really don’t know.
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