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Wednesday, October 15, 2014

28 going on 90

This post is brought to you by three things:


  1. Binge watching Gilmore Girls
  2. The cast recording of the Broadway musical If/Then
  3. My own reflection
I have been watching and listening to the first two religiously lately. I have yet to tire of belting "Always Starting Over" whenever and wherever I can, even it that means while standing outside my workplace during a break. 

However, this thought really came to mind when I had just finished the episode of Gilmore Girls when Rory is researching the Life and Death Brigade. At the end of the episode, she asks Lorelei if she is too safe? If she's a mouse? That stuck with me because I am. I do not take risks. I've been at the same job since I graduated high school, and even though I have BIG dreams, I know I'll never achieve them for the simple fact that I am too afraid to chase them. I'll never even come close to them. I sit complaining that I am stuck because I'm not brave enough to do ANYTHING. 

I turned off Netflix and decided to go to bed because the sheer thought that I am that terrified of life was too depressing. So, I came upstairs and started to get ready for bed. As I stood there, staring at my reflection as I brushed my hair, I thought to myself, "Who is that old woman?" I'm old. I mean, I understand that 28 is not OLD, but I'm not talking about my actual age. I got my first grey hair at the age of 16. My face is covered in wrinkles and looks weathered. How I feel on the inside is showing in my physical appearance. My fear, my stress, my inability to love myself... it's all there, written on my face for everyone to see. 

My entire life, I have been told "You have an old soul." I believe that now more than ever. Have I made childish mistakes? Yes. Of course I have, but for the most part, I have done nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing extreme. I can't even find the strength within me to follow my one true passion in life. I'm feeble and weak. I go through life as if I've already LIVED, but I haven't. I'm not 90. I'm 28. I have done absolutely nothing with my life. I have to move back in with my parents' after my roommate graduates for crying out loud. I have no outlook for the future. It simply doesn't exists because in my mind, I'm going to die any moment now because I'm old and decaying prematurely. 

"Well, what are you going to do about that?" is probably what all of you are thinking. I always have some sort of positive spin for these sort of posts. But, tonight, I don't. I don't have a positive spin.

I spend every single moment I am in public putting up some sort of appearance of happiness. (My positive spin for the public.) Then, I looked in the mirror tonight and realized that there's no way I'm fooling anyone. If they see the face I saw in the mirror tonight, they see the torment and the struggle and the pain. If they see that face, they must know all the "happy things" I say are false. Put there to convince them (or even myself) that I am someone who is strong and brave and happy. I'm not fooling anyone, and if I am, I must be a better actor than I have ever given myself credit for being. Because, even though it is my passion, I've never thought I was very good at it either. 

So... if you have a positive spin... I'm all ears. (or eyes in this case I guess) Because I'm honestly at a loss. If I weren't allergic to cats, I'd just go ahead and adopt 50 because that's how I've been living life since high school (minus a year or two in college)