quarter life crisis

published late 2011/early 2012

I feel stagnant.

I feel powerless.

I feel angry.

I feel trapped.


I feel let down. You broke your promises. You turned ethereal. You went from super tangible to ghosting, and then dumped me when I pointed it out. You end conversations when you don't like the truth. You blame my tone for your own inadequacies. You lied.

My life was going well. I was achieving results. I got what I needed, and oftentimes what I wanted. I was heartbroken more often than not, but I could count on my work paying off. Now - not so much. It's like I've been blacklisted from this entire city - from this entire section of the state. I used to be successful. I worked 30+ hours at several jobs just to get through my undergrad, and then scored a grant to pay for my master's. I had a stellar GPA and won awards and scholarships. But apparently I had the wrong jobs, the wrong internship, the wrong degree, belonged to the wrong program, made all the wrong choices, because now I'm broke. I live at home, in a bright yellow room where the sun rises into the window and scorches everything in it until past noon, and there's no space to turn around because I had to cram four years of Not Living Here into a corner in my aunt's basement + this room; I'm a true member of the boomerang generation. I work a shitty job at a shitty nonprofit for a bunch of shitty people who control everything and fucked me over for having morals and taking a stand.

I dream about moving. I read articles about cities with lots of jobs. I set myself up in the south, where it's warm, and people love their history, and there are always flowers and manners and no black ice sending cars skittering across the freeway during rush hour.

"Why don't you move?"

Because I have a rare condition, and several states have bastardized the treatment for that condition. Because more states will probably follow suit, and I don't want to end up living alone in a shitty state with stupid regulations and awful chronic pain management protocol. Because my doctor listens to me, and works with me regarding my treatment, and Greg the office manager loves Hawaii as much as I do, and when I have to take a piss test he giggles at me when I say "My life is so glamorous!" in a singsong. Because I can trust the nurse's assistant Missy to make sure I get my prescription when my whole life is falling apart because i can't get a job that pays anything/requires thinking/provides opportunities for anything, and my boyfriend dropped me out with the trash because he's emotionally stunted, and i recently learned that i'm a useless, sleepy, taking-up-space lump of shit. Because I've managed to cobble together a mix of medications, prescribed by a team of doctors that take up all the Ds in my phone, that make a difference in my life. Because I have to see my doctor(s) every three months in order to continue getting my medication cocktail, and I don't have the money to fly there and back every three months. Nor do I have the funds to set up a new life anywhere, because I can barely afford to cover my gray hairs.

(Not that I can even count on my nerveblockers or antidepressants, because if I can't find a full time job with better insurance than 50/50 coverage, I won't have any medications in ten months. Not to mention occupational therapy, ER visits, procedures, or hypothetical SCSes.)

Because I don't have any family anywhere else that I can trust to help me do the literal heavy lifting, nor, after a quarter century on this planet, have I managed to cultivate a working relationship with man besides my cat.


When I was little, I was excited to grow up, because when I was grown up I would watch r-rated movies and drink soda on days that weren't holidays, special occasions, or vacation-days. I would have as many pets as I wanted, and I wouldn't have to wear bags on my feet to keep them from getting wet in the snow, even though I was already wearing boots. I would do something I loved, and I wouldn't take any shit from my bosses, because I would know what I was worth. I would do something that helped people, but I wouldn't be a special ed teacher, because I knew I wouldn't grow up with enough patience for that particular vocation. I would read books whenever I wanted, and I would have bookshelves that were just like my grandpa and vovo's - that stretched across the wall on both sides of the fireplace, all the way to the other walls. I would be in love, and I would have lots of pets that laid on a bright, pretty rug in front of the fireplace that was banked on both sides by bookshelves. I would never wear uncomfortable shoes. I would come home from work and be happy because I worked there, and relax during the evening but think about work stuff because I liked solving the problems my job presented, because I liked my job.

tell me, how do i get from here to there?
don't tell me to persevere, because i already have, and i don't have a lot of juice left in the perseverance jug. don't tell me it all happens for a reason, because that doesn't help me when i get another letter saying they've decided to "pursue other candidates," and i don't have a crystal ball so that i can see myself in the future and know it's all worked out okay.


What I wouldn't give for a roadmap.