Hiiii it’s meeeee the Birthday Boy.
It’s currently, stream of consciousness, as I’m writing this, 7:30pm on April 7th. It’s my 30th birthday.
Birthdays are deeply complicated, aren’t they? (Only if you make them, Wolf!) Shut up, imaginary peanut gallery. My birthday this year has been a thing I’ve sincerely… worried about, to put it lightly.
Let me put this in context:
- I spent almost all the time from age 11 to about 18 intensely depressed. Birthdays were a bit of a break from that; some years were good and some years were just “fake-it-til-you-make-it” theatrics.
- Once I got into college, I still had a lot of problems with my mental health, but I was finding myself. I was getting better, slowly but surely. My birthdays became a celebration of “I may be on borrowed time, but by the gods I’ve made it this far and that’s a miracle”.
- That continued for a while. I was celebrating each revolution around the sun because By golly I fought and continue to fight so hard for this
- Now… I’m 30.
In the sitcom Friends, I remember at least one of the group having an existential crisis over turning 30, and at 12 or so I was like “wow that’s weird, why would they do that?”. That was naive of me. There’s a sense of “I should be [there]” or “I should have done [this]” by now.
My curse is thus: I can’t give anyone an answer to “Where do you want to be in 5 years?” but I can sure get to self-imposed lifetime deadlines and go “Well I have failed and therefore am worth less than I was a day ago”
Did I have an altogether bad day? No! But it also felt. Sort of empty for most of it?
Then I got a robo-text from the Misha Collins number that finished the birthday wish with “I’m glad you exist” and I spent exactly 3 minutes in the bathroom sobbing before sewing myself back up to make supper for my mamaw and myself.
I am, however, very thankful for the things I do have. My friends may all be very far away but they make me very happy. My family drives me nuts but I’m making it work. My passion for a lot of stuff has not been killed yet, which is probably a bonus at my age now.
It’s almost 9 now because I’ve been getting distracted, but it’s been somewhat positive distractions.
For those who are younger and also dread 30 for any sort of reason– I know I went into why I have been, but honestly? We don’t really have to worry about those milestones and deadlines.
Every new day is another chance to reach a goal.
And life, and love, and having fun doesn’t stop at age 30. I just lost sight of it because I’m staring down Father Time and what he’s doing in my Mamaw’s case. But there’s a big difference between 30 and 84! I can’t spend all my time thinking like I’m also 84!
Reader, don’t you get caught up staring down the barrel of your future either. You’ll miss out on today.
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