I am rapidly approaching my mid-thirties. This Friday, I will be 34. And I will celebrate in my usual MeredithElaine style – karaoke and Coors Light. Although there have been threats of Irish Car Bombs and Washington Apples. Oh, God, is it going to get ugly.
And really, am I 21? Or trying to still live in a delusional fantasy that I am?
I’m continually going through this cycle – one minute I want to be settled, I’m pining for children, all that good stuff; the next, I’m trying to fight the fact that I’m getting older and I get tired a lot easier. Do I want to pound beer all night, or do I want to stay in and fall asleep in front of the TV while watching the Food Network?
I also have been having a lot of flashbacks lately. To a (in retrospect) dark period of my life. I know the darkness of that time, but something in my brain is pushing the supposed good times to the forefront. And by good times, I mean the most stupid stuff EVER. Breezing along Routes 35 and 36 in my Dodge Neon, blasting cheesy pop/techno. Waking up early to get laundry started and then get my nails done. Going to the gym; going tanning. Cleaning the house (WTF?), cooking dinner (double WTF?), going out and partying. What was with this boundless energy I had back then? These days, I can barely muster up energy to wash the dishes in a timely fashion.
Granted, this was 8 years ago. But I felt carefree. I shouldn’t have, because it ended up catching me off guard. I lived in denial about a lot of things, and was shocked and devastated by many others. I won’t go into details about it all. But, truth be told – I was never 100% the same after everything that went down.
So, the fact that flashbacks are coming on so strongly these days…I don’t know what that means. Is it a subconscious panic on my body and psyche’s part that I’m getting older? Is it because I want to hold on to every fiber of youth I can? Is it because I want things to be simpler (even though back then, they weren’t necessarily simpler)? I honestly don’t know.
Over the years, my memory has become just horrific. I know I was at my high school graduation, my sister’s wedding reception, etc. There’s photographic proof. But I don’t remember these actual events. Things that should matter and count are very hazy to me. But events that are so trivial, or eras of my life that I really WANT to forget…are the ones that can’t be erased.
I don’t know why that is, and I wish I could change it.