Yesterday I turned 25…
Fucking 25! And I spent the whole day locked up in my room, alternating between crying and watching movies. Mostly though, I was just crying. Turning 25 sucked, at least it did for me. I’m better today; I dealt with most of the shit that came along with this new number yesterday.
I talked to family, a couple friends, but besides Haley I didn’t see anyone the entire day, which is sort of how I wanted it to go.
I tried to do the whole hang out with friends thing the night before, but due to poor planning and the fact that it was Easter SUNDAY the turnout was less than stellar. Even my best friend bailed. It needless to say did not help my mental state the next day.
Truth is I’ve never felt so alone in this town. Even when I first moved here 6 years ago and only knew 2 other people I still felt I had a purpose to being here. Now I don’t even have that. I hate my job. I hate this city. And I hate the stagnant state that my life has taken on.
I’m ready to move on, from this part of my life and from this town. But it looks like I’m going to be here for another year, and I’m left by myself in a town I’m sick of. I’ve already diminished a majority of my relationships in an effort to make my leaving easier by not having ties to this town, slowly cutting down contact with friends to phone calls and the occasional hang out. So I wouldn’t miss anyone or anything, so I wouldn’t be placated into just staying. Instead of being placated I’m just stuck. And all that work I did to make my eventual move easier has left me with few people I can lean on when I’m down. I did it to myself.
Yesterday I cried, but not because I was 25, or because anyone made me sad. I cried because I’ve made a mess of my life for the past 25 years. All the places I thought I’d go and all the people I thought I’d know never came to pass. Not because of bad luck or timing, but because of me. Because of the things I do to myself. The limits I set, the perceptions I have, the methods I use. It’s my fault, every last bit. And I think that’s my first realization of being a true adult.
1 comment:
Cheer up kid it ain't that bad, when i turned 25 i had just dropped out of grad school and was flat broke, moved to Ocean City and worked 100 hour weeks to make money just to survive, ended up in the city i'm still in, the grass is always greener is a horrible cliche but like Pooh you just need to be, wherever you are, just relax and shit works itself out, always does, and as far as fucking up for the last 25 years that's impossible, you can't really truly start fucking up till like 16 or something so on the bright side it's only been 9 years, hell i've been fucking up for like 24 and it still doesn't bother me much as long as my fuck-ups don't hurt others (at least not to much)... and by the way Happy Birthday.
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