I 100% thought I was going to be dead by now. So now that I’m still alive, I have no frickin clue what I’m doing?!?
When I think “MidLife Crisis,” I imagine a middle-aged man buying a red Miata and trying to troll for chicks. Maybe it’s all the TV I grew up watching?
Never would I have imagined a 41-year-old woman sitting in her pajamas questioning how she came to live in a condo under a man and woman who make pig noises daily. True story. I think they are involved on a fetish channel or something?
But, here I am.
First, I’d like to point out that my father died at the age of 39, I was only 15. But sitting in the funeral home, not being able to hardly breathe, I had a feeling I would die before hitting 40. I can’t explain it or why I just knew it was true. To me, knowing I would die before 40 was, was a matter of fact, just as I had ten fingers (no thumb debates, please).
So, I’ve lived longer than I thought I would ever live. I’m now officially past my expiration date, and I have no idea what to do.
My husband and I have been looking to purchase a real home since last year. I need unshared walls because I’m tired of listening to weird freaks getting it on like pigs and other reasons. With the market in flux, we have been outbid on numerous homes, and we’re both tired of battling a war to purchase a house.
It started out with me talking to my Hubster about maybe stop looking for a home, to me crying and saying I had no idea WTF was going on in the world, and how I trusted no one and nothing. I might have even mentioned I thought the Government was trying to kill me.
My hubster calmly said he had been planning for this for a few years. Somehow through my tears and snot, I asked what he meant.
Hubster: “You having a midlife crisis.”
Me: “What the hell are you even saying? You’ve been planning on me losing my shit and . . . going crazy?”
Hubster: “I thought it was going to happen a few years ago.”
Me: “You suck!”
*Side note my Hubster, who is 18 years older than me, had his midlife crisis when he met me. How simple to just find a younger mate and buy a nice BMW.
Of course, I claimed it wasn’t a mid-life crisis because who the hell would admit to that freak show? But then, later in bed, when I couldn’t sleep, I started googling GenX + MidLife Crisis + Crazy Town. Long story short, I should probably work out more and stop eating tacos from fast-food restaurants.
After my googling episode, I ended up in my bathroom vaping weed and wishing it was the 90’s again. I miss the 90’s. Back then, you could lie and say you didn’t have cell service if someone called, and people would believe you. Music was amazing, especially before Kurt Cobain died. Back then, I was still in denial about what really happened in my childhood. I also hadn’t racked up outstanding debt, so everything was cool.
In reality, I should have prepared for a meltdown last week. A kid at the sandwich shop called me “Ma’am,” and I sarcastically said, “Do I look like Bea Arthur?”
To which he looked at the receipt and replied, “You said you were Lisa?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and said he was a “baby adult” to myself.
So yeah, it’s not really a surprise that I freaked out last night. I mean, I literally freaked out: “When did I end up in Las Vegas? It’s too far west! I mean, it’s so west! I’m an east coast person! How did I get so many cats? Does this make me a crazy cat lady? How could we move all these cats back east? You couldn’t put them in the cab of a moving truck. They’d be all over us. We’d die before we hit Kansas!”
You can get the drift of the mindset I was harboring.
But none of that matters. What matters is how do I deal with it? I can’t just spend the next ten years screaming how did I get here and make 80’s references that baby adults don’t get. *I’m chugging a bottle of water and listening to grunge music as I write this as if that will fix my health and somehow make things better?
I read a ton of stories about people quitting their jobs, traveling, training for triathlons, reevaluating their lives, and other nonsense things.
I guess I thought I was going to find a Reddit answer where someone said, “I drank a 2 liter of Mt. Dew and chanted ‘I’m just a girl in the world,’ and suddenly things were great.”
There is a tightness in my chest since last night that I can’t shake. I’m wondering if this is how heart conditions develop? After all, I am now middle-aged.
I don’t know what I think my life should be, but surely it’s not meant to be this confusing? Shouldn’t I have figured shit out by now?