Phobia

I fear growing up.

Almost 21 years old, but I live life with an old soul.  Anyone can tell you that about me.  But not many people would know that growing up scares the hell out of me, except my dad.  He has heard and settled all my birthday cries.

Every birthday I still cry, the thought of growing up is like walls coming in and closing around me with no space to breathe.  It sounds dramatic, but does it not freak you out?  I think it freaks me out because I can’t believe what the human body can handle.  As humans we go through so much, we’re all dealt our own bullshit and with growing up comes more bullshit.  I get scared.  I am scared.  If it wasn’t for these shows and movies I wouldn’t be thinking of a perfect life.  I’d just be thinking about a happy one.

I know I will face beautiful experiences, or brutal experiences.  I am prepared for both, but am I really?  Am I ready to take on the world?  What does 25 years old hold for me?  What does 40?  I’m freaking out over here!

On my 20th birthday I cried my eyes out.  I begged my now-14 year old brother to be a teenager, to make mistakes and learn from them.  To have fun.  Don’t do what dad says, but keep your conscience flowing.  Always be aware, and always remember who you are.  Experiment and explore but never lose yourself.  Your teenage years are the ones you remember, the ones that mold you into the person you will become.

I was not emotionally prepared for what 20 years old would serve me with.  Sometimes I’m pissed off.  I’m pissed off that I work at an office 40 hours a week, staring outside my window.  This isn’t me, but here I am.  But because of this job I pay all my own bills with ease now.  I have a new car under my own name, not many people my age can say the same.

Or am I just sad that I never gave myself the chance to be a kid, to be a teenager?  While in school, I got my first job when I was 15 at Benny’s retail store.  I paid for all of my driving lessons, and finished them in 3 weeks because I did two lessons a day.  That was $120 each time.  I paid all my dues to have my permit, license, to have and keep a car.  By 16 and a half I had two jobs the entire time until I was almost 20.  I worked part time at a restaurant and an orthodontics office.  Then, it was the restaurant and an office job.  Lastly, it was the restaurant and a retail store.  For nearly 4 years, school and working was my life.  After I graduated I either lived to work or I was working to live.  I went shopping and paid my bills, never saved anything.  Until now, now that I’m an adult and it’s smarter to save.

Birthdays hit my heart like a ton of bricks.  I hate being reminded how fast time ticks.  I just want more time.  I just want more time to explore, and laugh, and do stupid things.  I can’t now.  I can not do stupid things anymore.

At the same time of not wanting to grow up, I am so proud of who I am.  I’m a woman.

Last night I got asked to go to a college and have fun, drink – it’s senior week.  “Is your boss going to care if you go in hungover?”  I said “No,  I don’t want to drink and sleep there, and I don’t want to drink and drive.  So I’ll just stay home and wake up at 6 for a wonderful day at work tomorrow.”  Sarcastically on the work part. At 10 PM on a Tuesday night, that was smart of me.  What sucks is that even if I was asked that on a Friday night  I, 50%, probably still wouldn’t have gone.  What is it with me?  I don’t want to grow up but I don’t want to be my age either.

I know I’m growing with grace, but a part of me fears I’m growing with regret.

 

A.

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