What’s my age again?

I never wanna act my age
What’s my age again?
What’s my age again?

In less than 72 hours I’m turning 23. I don’t remember having a birthday in the last 5 years that I don’t panic about or have a breakdown hours before, of course I always party like there’s no tomorrow, (because, hey that might actually happen!) but I always have a crisis, it’s either I’m getting into university, I’m moving to a new city, I’m about to start a new project, I’m in another country or I’m simply depressed over a recent break from the one I loved. This past 5 years have been a rollercoaster of emotions. And this year, ain’t different at all. I’m having a crisis, a meltdown, I don’t wanna grow older. I want to stop time, I’m in a position in life when I’m becoming an adult, were I shouldn’t be in university anymore, I should start gaining money, paying my rent, getting a dog or starting a business, even in some cultures (like mine: Mexican) I should be engaged by now, or married or with a kid, or at least in a long-term relationship. And guess what? I have nothing, literally nothing, in a few months I’m about to start a new experience that I’ve been waiting for my whole life, but I just feel a little behind.

I know… I should be thankful that I don’t have to worry about the real life responsibilities, but the fact is I do, before I go to bed every night I think of my future, of what am I gonna be doing for the next year, and then I’ll be 25 and the in a blink of an eye I’m 30, what if I’m in the same position as I am now? Or worse, what if something goes wrong, what if I haven’t accomplish what I want? What if I’m not proud of the person I’ve become? What if I let down the people I love? What if I have none to love?

So yup. I’m just sharing a little bit of my soon to be birthday. I wish I could tell you an advice of how not to feel this way if you feel like me, I’m sure I can’t be the only one thinking they’ve wasted their whole life. But while I figure what I’m gonna do in the future, I will celebrate the fact that I’m alive, that I have friends that want to party, that I have a family (tho we are not in the same city I know they think of me), that some ex is thinking of me (and wishing he could congratulate me), that I’m petsitting a dog, that I might drink my weight in alcohol and wake up to a breakfast with a hangover, that someone cares about the fact that I exist, that I’m alive.

Anyway 23 years is still young compared to some people. I should really start talking to my therapist about this (and by therapist I mean my journals.)