Faking adulthood

I quite often feel like my life is an extended version of thirteen going on thirty and any day now someone is going to stop me and tell me I don't have to pretend any more, I can go back to being a teenager. It feels as though I'm faking adulthood and in reality I have no idea what I'm doing or how I got here. I think if you still find yourself almost have to climb inside your duvet cover to successfully change the sheets then you might be faking it too. Or is that just me? have I just admitted something that makes me look very silly indeed? at this point in my blog there seems to be little point in caring, it doesn't do much to paint me in positive light.

Now I don't know how you're supposed to feel at 31, to be fair to myself it's my first time being in my thirties but I suppose back when I thought this was ancient I thought my life would be about more than trying to look busy so nobody cops that I'm totally lost here. Perhaps with all my changes of address I missed the life newsletter that should have prepared me for this. It feels as though people all around me are buying houses, having kids and getting married and I'm at working playing dress up in a wedding dress.

I'm feeling as though I'm stuck in a mess I call my life and all the while I'm looking to see where the adult is who's going to deal with it but then I catch my reflection and realize, Oh fuck that's me, I'm the adult here (allegedly) It's hard to know if anyone else feels this way because you can't exactly ask people that without seeming a little unhinged and I'd be forced to do a nervous laugh and say I was kidding. At which point the other person would shake their head muttering about my weird sense of humor.

Living alone I'm fairly self sufficient so when I say I don't really feel like an adult I don't mean I am sitting around having ice cream for breakfast and spending the bill money on alcopops. All of my bills get paid on time and my apartment is pretty clean most of the time so It's not like it's all falling apart.
But then I get tired or hungry or eat a little sugar ( back on the wagon I go) and suddenly I am like a whiny child waiting for someone else to sort my life out.

Now maybe this isn't the way to live forever and someday I might feel less like I'm pretending but for now I'm going to go with it. I think responsibility is over rated so I'm probably better off only having to clothe and feed myself. Let other people be adults but me, I'm just faking.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The darker side of romance

Image
  For some reason I felt compelled to write about a corner of my past that hasn't been part of my blog before. a heads up to anyone who might be upset by this topic I will be delving into emotional abuse so feel free to stop reading now if you don't feel able to carry on. When I was in my late 20's I met a guy on a night out. He was a few years younger than me and honestly looking back threw up a couple of red flags early but I didn't trust my own intuition plus I was only a few months away from finishing college and planned to move to Edinburgh in a few months so it wasn't like it was going to be anything more than a brief fling. However as time went on I became more infatuated with him, there was an intensity there and he seemed sweet but damaged. Like a perfect modern fairytale I thought I would be the one to fix him. somehow plans changed and he was going to follow me over to Edinburgh, get a job there and we were going to live happily ever after. at this point
Read more

Help, I think I'm autistic

Image
 So I, at the age of 41, have come to the realization that I am autistic.  Growing up I always had a feeling something about me was a little bit off. I never quite fit in and I wasn't sure why. It was like everyone had been given a book of rules of how to exist in society but no one had thought to hand me a copy. Looking back with hindsight the signs were there. I was a super sensitive kid, a sensitivity I have not lost in adulthood, I cried very easily and felt every emotion very deeply. I was a picky eater and very particular about the textures of different food. I was very sensitive to light and noise and the feel of different fabrics. I was never a hugger. all of these things are as true about me now as they were when I was younger. I am socially awkward, I don't make friends that easily and will joke I am an acquired taste. Eye contact is something I have to actively work on and small talk feels like torture.  I thrive on alone time, I am incredibly sensitive to the moods
Read more

Sometimes I open my mouth and my mother comes out ..

Image
I have been told on more than one occasion that I'm sarcastic. Often that I'm too sarcastic (as though there could be such a thing) and I have retort up my sleeve for such occasions which is if you think I'm sarcastic you should meet my mother. No, really you should because my sarcasm is but a pale imitation of hers. Every so often though I come out without something that makes my friends or other family members pause because sometimes when I open my mouth, my mother comes out.  It's funny how people always take the words you are turning into your mother as such an insult because the reality of the matter is it's a both a good and bad thing. Obviously there are certain qualities I am perfectly happy to emulate and others not so much and on the whole I am not entirely sure how much control I have over it. It's not quite a pick and mix counter here. I think there are some habits you are not even aware you have picked up until someone else kindly points it out.
Read more