I'm Not Old Enough To Be An Adult: An Ongoing Life Crisis

Dear diary, I'm having a fucking midlife crisis. Or a quarter life crisis. Really more of a series of ongoing crises since I have absolutely no indicator which point of my life will be the middle or the quarter.

I really don't want to be an adult, but I feel like I'm supposed to be.

But I feel like I've passed my peak youth age, that I've made it to the top of the hill and someone has shoved me down the other side. My tits aren't as perky as they were when I was 18 and I'm seriously considering botox. On the upside my eyebrows aren't half as shit as they were back in my uni days, and even though I have an extra chin now, I can contour the fuck out of it and catfish the internet into believing I'm still a skinny bitch.

I'm sickly nostalgic for my youth, which in reality was about five minutes ago so I'm being very over dramatic at this point, but it feels like an entire separate life. The entire idea of living in a shit hole student flat where the heating doesn't work, where the living room carpet is damp with vomit and spilled wine, where there's a distinct smell of general sketty-ness that lingers in every room should make my stomach turn, but it doesn't. To me, that still sounds like a good time. Because despite the fact that for an entire year I was living in Satan's own personal trash fire like an absolute dumpster child I was having the time of my life.

I would give my left arm to be able to go back, to do it all again, to spend my days in my pyjamas eating takeaway and only getting ready to venture into town to buy cheap pre drinks and raid the shops for something to wear that night. I have seriously considered just doing degree after degree and being a student for the rest of forever like a slutty Peter Pan who goes to one lecture a week and downs jagerbombs every night in a dress that's two sizes too small but makes her tits look ace - but it's 2018, and that means there are actual fucking children born in the year 2000 currently refreshing UCAS to see where they'll be going in September.

There's no going back, time has a horrible habit of ticking on no matter how much you will it to stop.

I can't go back to being a fresher and living the little student bubble where you couldn't turn around on a night out without bumping into at least five people you knew. My friends, course mates, the people from the flats in my block are now all rapidly approaching their mid twenties and being adults with real jobs and paying taxes and having children. There isn't an option for us to go back - eventually we all have to grow up and get a grip on the world and stop eating super noodles out of a sports direct mug.

So if I can't do that, if I can't relive my fleeting youth, what do I do? I'm stuck in the limbo that is my 20's, where half of my friends are getting married and having babies while the other half are getting ketty and drinking glens vodka around a plastic garden table at 5 am. And here I am, stuck with an overwhelming sense that I'm an impostor. That I'm still a little girl who's cutting about in her mams clothes trying to convince everyone that I am a real grown up.

I am essentially stuck. I'm in the no mans land between adolescence and adulthood, just biding time waiting for my girl life to fizzle out before my actual woman life starts. And that is really, truly terrifying. Because I'm really not willing to relinquish my grasp on being able to do what I want, when I want, being able to wing basically every aspect of my life. But, inevitably, that's already changed. I have a job now, and despite the fact that I wake up and regularly wonder 'do I really need this job', you can bet that I turn up on time every day, even if I do have to drag my arse out of bed kicking and screaming.

I feel like I'm at a stage of constant self sabotage - holding my life back from progressing to where it needs to go because I'm so hung up on what once was and what I once had, as though I somehow can't accept my own fate.

Because I know that I have to grow up eventually, but why does it have to be now?

In short, it doesn't.

Comparison is the thief of joy. The constant need to measure myself up to other people is exhausting and confusing and does nothing but make me feel like I'm doing a shit job with my life.

I can't help but wonder how I would feel if just for a moment I could stop comparing myself to other people and think about what I really want to be doing with my life right now rather than what I 'should' be doing right now. What I really want right now is to listen to clubland classics and drink a bottle of Lambrini.

For now I think that I'm doing sort of okay. It's about the balance. I can go out every night if I want, as long as I can manage to pull myself together enough to get up for work in the morning and remember to brush the vomit out of my hair. It's perfectly acceptable to spend all of my money on clothes and make up instead of saving up for a house deposit as long as I leave enough money in my account to pay my bills. There's nothing wrong with eating a packet of ham and a strawberry yogurt for dinner as long as I remember when I eventually have children they will need to be fed actual meals.

I'm still just winging things, but there's just like 10% less winging than there was when I was 18.
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