crisis intervention

LINK: crisis intervention

Currently listening to: Back From The Dead – Skylar Grey feat. Big Sean, Travis Barker

I held the funeral the day you left
A black umbrella and a sad song in my head
Buried your pictures that I loved the most
‘Cause if you survived me, I just didn’t wanna know
So you can’t just come back now like a demon uninvited
No, you can’t just expect me to open my door to you because

I never thought that you and I would ever meet again
I mourn the loss of you sometimes and pray for peace within
The word “distraught” cannot describe how my heart has been
But where do we begin now that you’re back from the dead?
Where do we begin now that you’re back from the dead?
Where do we begin now that you’re back from the dead?

I’m so confused I don’t know what to feel
Should I throw my arms around you or kill you for real?
‘Cause I worked so hard to put the past to rest
Now it’s tumbling down on me just like an avalanche
So you can’t just come back now like a demon uninvited
No, you can’t just expect me to open my door to you because

Have you ever gone through a quarter-life and/or a mid-life crisis? How did you recover from it?

Prompt created by yours truly.
Feel free to use any prompts that I post and/or tag me.
I’d love read your responses.

When I found out that TCMC was going to stop providing daily prompts, I immediately started crashing out. Afterward, I decided I’d make my own prompts. Wish me luck. Also, I’ll still be snagging people’s prompts to supplement.

Quarter-life Crisis

My existential crisis hit hard and all at once. Or at least it felt like it did.

I had just ended an engagement, left Texas, lost close to $80,000, and somehow I found myself standing in the middle of my life with no clear direction and no map. I was scared. I felt unmoored. I headed out West to California. My cousins, aunt, and uncle welcomed me without hesitation. My parents wanted me back in Minnesota, but I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to feel like a big fish in a small pond anymore. I needed space. I needed to grow, even though I didn’t know how I was going to do it.

Pasadena was beautiful and extremely lonely for me. For the first time since uni, I lived alone. No roommates, one friend, a brand new hospital job. As an introvert, after work all I wanted to do was go home, pull the covers over my head, and disappear for a few hours. Making friends felt impossible. I tried not to bother my one friend so much, especially since his girlfriend made it clear that she wasn’t comfortable with us hanging out alone. I understood, but still felt butt hurt. I’d known him for years, long before she came into the picture. He felt like family. But boundaries are still boundaries and I had to respect that.

I didn’t know what my purpose was anymore. I didn’t have any life goals. All I wanted to do was survive the day. Get through the shift. My finances were in shambles, my anxiety and depression was at its peak and it prevented me from being my best self. I was a small fish in a big pond… and I was drowning. On weekends I wasn’t working, I drove an hour to the Inland Empire to visit my aunt and uncle. My cousins were busy living their own lives (grad school, friends, dates, and what not). So it was usually just me and my aunt and uncle, sitting in the living room, watching television or movies, talking about nothing and everything.

I’m certain that they pitied me. I made sure to act cheerful so they wouldn’t worry and tell my parents about me being a sad sack. Inside, I felt like a failure. A grown woman in her twenties, hanging out with her aunt and uncle on a Saturday night instead of going out with friends or on dates. Any man who showed interest made me skittish. I was so damaged, I felt fragile and defective… and was hyper-aware of it.

Coworkers invited me to church with them. But instead of praying, I was thinking about my failures. I was also mad that I didn’t clock things faster, it would have made my life so much easier if I had. After a few invites, I politely declined going with them again.

At my apartment, my cat would crawl into bed with me and let me cry onto her fur. I bet she felt sorry for me. We would lie there together for hours until I fell asleep and woke up the next morning.

There were nights I wondered if coming back to California had been another mistake. But by then, there was no undo button. I’ve already gone too far.

Surprisingly, it was my social media friends who listened, read my words, and helped pull me out of the darkness. They checked in on me, provided me with positive affirmations, and offered me a safe place where I could share freely. I didn’t feel judged and I felt a sense of belonging without the pressure unlike my real life friends. Every time I logged on, they were there. They were my constant. Slowly, I started stitching myself back together. I wasn’t the same person that I was before but I was okay with that.

Mid-life Crisis

I’m not there yet, at least not by age standards.

But if it comes, I think it will look different. I’m in a better place now than I was in my mid-twenties. I have colleagues who support me, family who care, and friendships that are mutual. I’m more financially stable. I know my limits better. I recover faster and am more resilient. And I have this space, with y’all reading, writing, commenting, and reflecting with me.