That’s My Crisis

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Can I Have A Crisis In My Twenties?

Did you know that some people believe our mid twenties can bring our first crisis? This decade, the first in our adult life, can include the “quarter-life crisis” (first named in 2001). I believe it because I’ve seen it. Our twenty-somethings are almost certain to have a crisis of not knowing how to be an adult, how to belong, and how to survive. 

But, as I hope you have read in my other posts, as I shift out of my first and last crisis, I’ve accepted that I don’t know how to “be” an adult. Nobody really told me. I don’t think they know. I don’t think anybody knows. So, I guess I actually can’t know how my adult life will go. This is surprisingly awesome. I actually feel a lot better about being an adult when it doesn’t and really can’t have a definition I have to follow. 

The world doesn’t ever reveal itself in a way that lets me or anyone else answer all of the “What If’s”. I spent a surprising amount of time trying anyway. Finally, I just stopped asking and just started screaming. By the way, it’s liberating to scream (let one out when you need to). Also, stop torturing yourself with expectations you can never meet. I suggest trying both. Scream and let it help free you. And it’s okay to be frustrated and angry at the society that says we have to be an adult in a certain way. We don’t.

Here’s the great news. The crisis is temporary. My crisis came because I needed to figure out that I’d never figure it out. I sometimes start to reenter the crisis to dwell on the unknown future again or dwell on the past. Then, I remind myself that it isn’t possible to look ahead like that and that fear from the past should stay there. 

Dwelling on the future sounds weird, right? Dwelling sounds like something we do when thinking about the past, but it’s definitely possible to dwell on the future. I got really good at playing “what if”. I could “what if” myself right out of trying anything. I have questioned and reasoned and played the logistics of my life to the point of ridiculousness. It got me nothing. No decisions, no truth, no revelations. All I got was anxiety and panic. Not fun. At all.

In a crisis, panic takes over. Life in constant panic mode. What if I miss out on that? What if he doesn’t text back? What if my friends decide they like other people better? What if I completely bomb that midterm exam? What if I never figure out a career path? What if I’m just not that smart? What if I disappoint my family? 

My early twenty-something crisis is how I ended up shifting away from my anxiety into this amazing new fear. Yep. From stunned anxiety into absolutely terrified motion. It was and still is strangely exhilarating! Walking fearfully into the unknown is so much better than being anxious trying to recreate very familiar situations over and over thinking things will change. Situations I kept trying to do over, rework, and “fix”. It didn’t go well. It didn’t go anywhere.

So, here is some truth. I will miss out on a lot of things other people are flashing on Instagram, but I’ll be doing so much, too. I’ll have all that time while I’m not obsessively scrolling through Instagram 😀. I want to date guys that are confident enough to text and not care about the rules of the nonexistent chase. If he doesn’t text back, obviously I haven’t missed anything. But I would be missing my life while trying to chase him or making sure he is chasing me.

My friends will never find anyone else like me, so why would they like someone more than me? We can all hang together even if they do. So what if I bomb that midterm? It probably means I don’t like what I’m learning. I’m pretty sure I’ll never find that one and only career (I’m not really looking). I’m going to find a whole lot of other ways to live and work (Thanks, Maria!) that bring me joy. As for not being smart enough, that’s just ridiculous. My family? They’ll be fine. Their disappointment can’t be my problem. Their disappointment is a reflection of them, not me.

All of the “what ifs” I was living in were based on everyone else’s expectations for my life, not mine. I can lead a full and awesome life without spending time on the “what if’s”. They keep me from the “why not”. It’s the “why nots” that will help me find the life I want.

It sounds like I’m flying without a safety net. Not exactly. I like structure in my life, so I’m not saying that I don’t plan anything. I do quite a bit of planning. Planning is different than getting caught in that infinite browser I’ve mentioned in other posts. The one that goes into the loop of complete indecision. The place where you end up thinking that life just isn’t going to give you the answer. Then, you take the way chosen for you by someone else. When I did that, my life had very little meaning and no purpose. I wasn’t standing still, but I never went anywhere. I plan so I can go. It’s still scary, but at least I have a plane ticket.

How Time Flies 

In crisis mode, life was a big blur. Time flew by without me noticing much. When I changed my perception and saw my life outside of crisis mode, time seemed to slow down. The experiences I have now are more colorful and more rhythmical. They go along with my vibe. They have meaning. I appreciate life now. 

During the crisis, life was something I had to get through. It was like moments put together that were lived to get somewhere else, but I never knew or really chose where. What is so ironic is that now I still don’t know where life is going, but I’m enjoying getting there because I’m choosing my journey. Where I end up doesn’t really matter.

I hear the phrase “where did all of the time go?” and I really get what it means to me. While spending so much time in crisis looking for answers and letting all of it stress me out, it was easy to wonder what happened to all of that time. Until I was twenty-two, time passed this way. 

Now, though, I feel time passing so differently. I think, “Wow, that was only three months ago? I have seen, done, and learned so much since then!”. I feel precious moments while they are happening. I challenge myself to be better tomorrow whatever that looks like instead of waiting to be better just because it will be tomorrow. Time should be there for me to use to get what I want from it. It should not be something that swallows parts of my life as it passes me by and sticks its tongue out at me 😝.

I Get All the Time in the World

You have so much time, so don’t rush it. That’s another phrase I hear a lot from older adults when they find out I’m in my twenties. It’s usually while they are trying to convince me to do what they think is best for me (ugh). It’s not that I don’t appreciate that they care, I just don’t think people really stop to listen. If they did, they would hear how I want to spend my time. I believe I have all the time I need. Whatever time it is right now is the right time. 

In other posts, I’ve discussed the paradox of time. We have all the time in the world but the clock is ticking. I think my shift in perception includes a new way of feeling time. I can’t turn it back, and I can’t see what it will bring. Time is freedom because it is whatever it means to me. It is more valuable if I spend it learning and discovering. It will just run away if I forget that it is precious.

What happens now can have a big influence on tomorrow, but it can’t exist exactly as it does in this moment ever again. So, I have to look at time as a gift each day. No, I cannot get it back, but it can be the start, the continuation, and the realization of all that is amazing and unique about life. It brings new opportunities, new ideas, and new connections. It holds and strengthens love, joy, and passions. 

I do get all of the time in the world – in my world. One that I am grateful for. One that I can’t wait to see more of and sometimes can’t believe is a gift just for me. Life outside of the crisis is brilliant. It’s full of time to spend learning, discovering, and becoming. I only occasionally think about the girl who thought time would never work out for her (That’s the Beginning). I thought time was something like a bully that I had to run from or one side of a relationship with a toxic power struggle. Time is neither of those things. How great is that?

In the Matrix After Taking the Red Pill

Time is one of the paradoxes in life. As I said, it’s a gift, but one that’s like a gift card with an expiration date. It offers endless uses within my matrix, but it’s by its own nature limited. I want to make the most of the time in my matrix. The one that has infinite twists and turns. Choices and possibilities not in a straight line, but all around with its beautiful mystery of tangles. It’s complicated and fascinating, but it’s always moving. I know that now. I can stay out of the stunned paralysis of crisis mode where time works against me instead of with me.

Emerging from the crisis is like taking the red pill. I need a tangled life. I don’t see how to not live uncomfortably. I can choose to find comfort when I need to, but I have such a strong desire to learn about the world that I think my life will be uncomfortable. Otherwise, I might not get to feel and see it all and I really want to see all of it. 

This uncomfortableness is not a crisis. I won’t confuse them- crisis and discomfort. I might find myself broke, or temporarily lost, but with my worth and awareness as my guide, I won’t be without what I need to keep going. It’s always been with me – everything that I need to move through the world. “Nothing is ever really lost, or can be lost.” Thank you, Mr. Whitman. I agree. I did not let a good crisis go to waste. In it, I found my matrix.

Tangled in the webs and loving it…

Check out “My Crisis” on the Poems page