Age

When does getting older stop being fun?

When you're a kid, you can't wait until your next birthday.  When people ask your age, you proudly announce your age and even make sure to include "and a half" when it applies.  That extra six months is a big deal, after all.

When you're a teenager you stop including the half, but you still look forward to that next one.  You're still proud when you say "Fourteen, but almost fifteen."

It seems to stay until you hit about twenty one.  And then, after that... what?  You never hear someone proudly saying "I'm almost thirty."  In fact, many say they're twenty nine a few years after twenty nine has passed.   Perhaps it's the lack of milestones to look forward to.   Up until you're twenty one, there is something you want to try, but can't because "you're not old enough."

I think for me, I didn't really care about getting older until I started looking older.  Well after I was no longer having milestones to look forward to, I was still being carded for them.

Until the white hairs started coming in.

Somewhere along the line it went from "Can I see your ID?" to "Here you are Ma'am." 

Ma'am?!   When did I become one of those?!   

Oh now I remember.  When the world could see the multitude of white that was working it's way through my hair and I didn't have the time or money for the dye to cover them.

Damn it.

illusions

We always have to be careful when trying to decide if what we see is what's really there.

Most especially with people.

They will tell you one thing, but then do another.  They make promises they cannot keep.  And you are left standing there, wondering what happened.

But what do you do when you realize it's all been an illusion too late?  

Of course you wonder if any of it was real.  You question every moment.  Every detail, every nuance, goes under close scrutiny.  You scramble and grasp at anything that seems like it could've been the truth.

Eventually you settle with the idea that perhaps they meant them at the time.

Better than me?

I hate the one-up syndrome.

You know what I mean.  When you mention something you've done that you're proud of and someone else has to constantly tell you about how they did something similar that was just so much more impressive.

At least, in their eyes it is.

How long does it take before you stop mentioning those things that made you proud?  How much longer before you stop being proud of those things entirely?  Weeks?  Months? Years?

How long does it take before you want to reach out and just slap that person across the face and tell them to shut the hell up and let you enjoy your moment?

Slapping them is probably not such a good idea, what with assault laws and such.  But it is a nice fantasy, isn't it?

I didn't do anything

I didn't do anything.

I hate that sentence.

It's often the very reason why I'm upset.  Sometimes I want something to be done.  Sometimes it's what's not done that has me riled.   Is that so very hard to understand?

I don't want to be saved.  I don't want some knight in shining armor to whisk me away to a castle in the clouds.  I just want help from the very people who should be helping me when I need it.

Have you ever...?

Have you ever found yourself not where you wanted to be, but had no idea how to fix it?

Imagine, if you will, being at a place in your life where you are happy.  Really, down to the bone happy.  But you give it up.  Why?  Because you decide to pick a road that's probably not as enjoyable, but better for you.

A life that makes you happy, but not so good for you, versus a life that's good for you, but won't make you happy.   Some choice, isn't it?

You convince yourself you'll still be happy.  It'll just be a different kind of happy.  Right?  Sure.  And for awhile you are happy.  You're filled with the excitement of this new path laid out before you.  And then reality checks in.

You're miserable.

But how do you change this?  You made the choice to be here.  It was a choice you cannot take back.  

So you go through the motions, thinking maybe if you do this thing or that thing it will all click into place and you'll find that elusive happiness you've been seeking.  But it doesn't work, does it?  No.

How long does it take before you begin to feel like a caged animal?  Trapped in a prison without bars.  You left everything behind for this new life, and now you can't leave.  Nowhere to go, and even if there was, you have no way to get there.  You are stuck.

Perhaps it would be easier if it were a more cut and dry situation such as being abused.  But it's not one of those situations.  

Have you ever?