I’m awake. It’s 2 am and I’m awake now. Every time I turn over to try to fall asleep again I start dreaming about everything that’s scaring me right now and so I wake up. Startled. And I have to start all over again.
I’m struggling with the unknown.
I used to believe in psychics. I used to believe in tarot cards and in pendulums. Pretty much anything that I thought could just give me a glimpse of what was to come. So I could position myself where I needed to go to get to that outcome. No matter what the psychics or cards or swinging crystals told me, it rarely came true. I started to shift behaviours. Still act superstitious and do things without really thinking them through. Like in my previous entry. “If I talk about the good stuff, it’ll go away.”
That’s fucking ridiculous.
No amount of premonition is going to change the path I’m on. Because premonition doesn’t exist.
What does exist is feeling. And right now I’m terrified.
And it’s keeping me up at night.
I spent ten minutes laying on my back, watching what light from the streetlight that managed to find it’s way onto my ceiling and started composing a blog entry before I finally went and got my computer. I struggled with what I thought should be my blog entry. A story about why I’m feeling so anxious/tired/worried. How could I weave it to express just what I’m feeling without showboating the situation.
And I couldn’t do it. Not because what I write always shows off (sometimes it does). But because I am definitely shifting my tone of voice these days.
I’ve felt the need to put my big girl shoes on in the last couple days. I was looking around my apartment and as I do my Week Without project it’s making me realize I need to act my age. It sounds so silly to say, as if I’m a parent, scolding myself for having tantrums. Then I tell my friends that I need to stop acting like I’m 21 and they sneer at me because some of them are 21 or 23 and wonder what I hell I’m saying about them.
But what I mean is I need to stop acting like when -I- was 21.
26 holds a fair amount of responsibility. It’s encroaching on serious career status. You’re supposed to be doing all these things and I’m only doing part of them. And I know I shouldn’t listen to what I’m “supposed” to be doing because it’s all subjective. But really, there are some I should be.
I talk a lot about taking responsibility for my actions. And I am. I -am- happy right now. Just simultaneously terrified. Because right now, things are terrifying.
Dad’s in the hospital. There. I said it. He had surgery this morning and there were complications and we can’t see him because he’s in recovery.
All I keep thinking is: ‘I’m glad I went to visit him on Sunday.’ Because we talked and I told him about what’s going on because he wants to hear about everything. We supported him and had family time.
He showed me his amazing collection of typewriters and told me stories about them.
Then he let me have one.
So as I was sitting on my couch, waiting for news, I looked at that typewriter and thought about the history behind it and thought about my Dad’s history and thought about mine.
History is all I have to go on. Reason and reflection. What does the past tell me about what I should do right now? No pendulum is going to explain what’s going to happen or why things have happened the way they have.
Time will tell. Even then, time is an elusive storyteller. Nothing is ever objective and everything is skewed. Therefore: I’m scared. I’m scared to step into those big girl shoes, because that means letting go of that security blanket. Everything I’m used to, even if it doesn’t work. Familiarity was everything and made it okay. Even if it was only for a second. I could hold onto that for long after.
But everything is different.
And every time I fall asleep, I dream that it’s never going to be the same again.
#1 by Chris Walts on April 23, 2009 - 9:48 am
Sorry to hear about your dad. *big hugs*, as someone who has had a parent sick for a good chunk of his life I certain feel your pain.
As for the quarter life crises (something that is becoming a fairly well documented phenomena) I think in main ways it is the adult version of growing pains. Being 26 myself I certainly feel in may ways the shift to put away “childish things” and move forwards into a full fledged adulthood. The question though of what this really means I think depends on you. I mean everyone also says 30 is the new 20, which is actually very true when you consider how long we spend in the extended ‘teenageness’ we get by spending so long in university.
At the same time when we look back at history there many of the people we admire have “done things” with their lives by our age. In may ways I think it is that we are suddenly faced with the reality that we may actually not be as good as we think we are and the coddling mentra of “the world is your oyster” and “you can do whatever you want” doesn’t seem to fit the same way anymore. So what happens, we go into a ideological shock and somewhat of an identity crises.
What I try and remember when this happens to me, and it probably happens about once a month, is that by and large I’ve enjoyed my life lived thus far and wouldnt’ want to have done things differently. The future is still very much in the making and every day is a new beginning full of as many possibilities as we choose to create. I think as we get older it gets tougher to see that as everyone is pushing us to specialize and “think of the future” but in the end you need to do what’s right for you.
I hope some of that almost made sense, I’m trying to be helpful while at work
#2 by Nickolas on April 23, 2009 - 11:21 am
It’s a post like this one that always leaves me feeling torn. I’m always happy to see someone open up and write down their feelings, no matter how raw – which is one of your strengths, Alice.
But then my human side kicks in and I feel like anyone else does, and I’m sorry you’re feeling the way you do. I hope your dad is okay. Even more, I hope that you don’t have to write any more posts in this dark vein.
My thoughts are with you and your family.
#3 by Phinneas on April 24, 2009 - 8:49 am
Sounds like an apocalypse…but, you know, in the good way.
#4 by Identity Krysis on April 24, 2009 - 3:38 pm
Chris:Thanks for your words. In a big way what you said both pushed me in the right direction and consoled me for being the position I am in. Some kind of stationary movement. It’s encouraging to know that others share my confusion with where we are and what our roles may be. But also that each of us have a different pace at which we go. I intrinsically knew all this, but having someone tell me when things seem so unclear… well, makes things clear again. Or at least makes it a tad less hazy. Whatever the level of clarity my current vision is at, you have improved it.
So: Thank you.
Nickolas:Coming from you, a writer I respect and have the privileged of being able to chat with and follow, I am honoured by your thoughts on my situation and my writing. I think I need to clear away some of my preconceptions about certain types of writing. Writing from “I” about very personal issues for example, always makes me feel odd. Perhaps that oddity is what may help.
Thanks so much for your wishes.
#5 by SmuttySteff on May 6, 2009 - 4:02 pm
The reality is, nothing *is* going to be the same. But that’s kind of the awesomeness of everything, even when it all feels like shit.
Sick parents are tough. Been there, done that, still going there. Lost one. Sorry you’re there now. It’s a really difficult place to be.
That aside, though?
I find that most people I know, myself included, go/or have gone through majorly steep learning curves around 25-28 years old.
It’s a pretty daunting time because the novelty of being out of school wears off, the newness of independence gets tarnished, and you’re faced with the reality that you’re now on a path towards the rest of your life and it’s a bigger, harder process than we’re prepared for, because of its relentless everydayness. You can’t take a day off from being grown-up, as much as you want to think acting silly and downing drinks might alleviate it.
So when you throw into that mix the hardship of dealing with parental difficulties — be it they get sick or something — and you’re faced with Growing Up Even More and the “what if” scenarios…
Well, it’s a lot to chew on. It’s hard. You’re right to be uncomfortable and antsy, unsure, and whatever else you feel.
But here’s the thing. You’ll get past this.
The decade from 25 to now has been just mind-boggling for me, the whirlwind of everything. Ups, but lots of downs.
I wouldn’t change a thing. I wouldn’t even bring the dead back to life. Because I fucking love who I am now, and I got here from there.
Scared is the natural response. But you’ll feel the fear and do it anyway, just like the self-help book says. And whatever happens, it’ll become a part you, and will probably make you a better person.
Lord knows my adversities have me. Even the stuff I thought I’d never survive is nothing but a wistful memory now. You’ll see.
And I fucking love my 30s. Hang on, sister.