Underneath it all, we’re just the same…

I think I might be having a midlife crisis.  I’ve always been terrified of death; now I’m just straight up afraid to get old. I think part of me just wants to not be so responsible anymore.  Being a “grown up” sucks.  If I could rewind myself 10, 15 years…I probably would.  I’d want to take da hubz with me, of course.  I wish I’d met him way, way sooner in my life than I did.

There’s part of me that will always romanticize the younger days.  No matter how fucked up it got.  No matter who was controlling me, abusing me…at least I was young and I could get drunk nearly every night without consequence (or hangovers).  Everything revolved around going to concerts and going to bars/clubs.  I’ve always been a worrier, but I did a couple of somewhat carefree years.

Now I’m worrying about debt, health, and the future.  I can’t survive without xanax and antacid. I just want to dance and sing and drink and not be such a stress case.  But no, I’m just getting overly think-y again.  I’ve been trapped in my head, moreso than usual, for the past few weeks, and I absolutely hate it.

I wish I was part of something.  I wish I could be part of something, without feeling like an idiot because I’m too old for this shit.  I thought I had finally reached my stride in my 30s, but now it’s becoming clear that I’m more insecure and unsure than ever.

As fucked up as always.


About meredithelaine

forty-something. jersey girl in texas via california.
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