Turning 21 smashed me in the face with a barbed wired covered bat pretty similar to the infamous fictional terror that was known as Lucille.
Yes, I celebrated, I smiled, laughed and danced but I also panicked, hated and stopped.
We all now know that my unpredictable and damaging perfectionist trait has dragged me down many harming routes that lead to my depression plummeting through the floor into a self-hating, numb ball of psycho. And of course, my birthday has been no different, my perfectionist self decided that this was the time to remind me that I had a plan and I haven’t gained on single thing off that plan. I have hit another milestone in my life and I’m still no closer to whatever my goal, purpose or contentment is and it kinda feels like running on a treadmill, absolutely fucking pointless.
After my celebrations were over and I finally sobered up, I began to realise I have no idea what the hell I’m doing or where I want to be in five years if anywhere at all. I find it extremely difficult to look into the future and picture myself doing anything, which is a bit to doom and gloom for my new older outlook on life (apparently). You hear so many people spouting their plans to sail them through success and happiness but does anyone really know, I mean are we all just getting up heading to work to pay bills and eventually end up under the ground regretting the things we dreamed to do. I’ve been told and reminded that it’s all downhill from here, I’ve lived the best years and I’m now just waiting for weekends and bank holidays. The only thing is I’m scared it could be true, have we even lived for the most exciting times of my life.
I may have mentioned before but my expectations for myself and this amazing life I was ‘meant’ to have are nearing the impossible and me realising that doesn’t help in the slightest when I fail to reach them by even a fingertip length I destroy myself and enhance my failure. After all a Fail is indeed a Fail. I try to convince myself I have all the time in the world to do what I want and to figure it all out, but now I have made it to my deadline of wanting to at least have a strong idea of industry I want to excel in I’m real thinking my entire idea of ‘having all the time in the world’
While slipping through the NHS mental health system I have learnt how I can cope with certain aspects of my depression and anxiety. I have created ways to shut out and cope with whatever it is that keeps my depression at a high and ignore it, manage it most days and keep it a bay without an explosion, however me pushing everything down is the sole route of creating the bitchy, hating, angry she-hulk I truly am.
Is it really just down hill from here? A slippery, self-dooming and depressing trip to under the hill? Am I now just waiting for retirement and the ease into a lifeless capsule?