Turning 27 I had a lot of mixed feelings, especially with the state of the world atm, so I thought I'd write a little bit about it here to try and process how I feel. I had no idea it would trigger me.
Heading into the last phase of 2020, we are at the conclusion of another filler year, new for everyone else but for me the 3rd after dropping out of college because of mental illness and floating(embracing the uncertainty of minimally structured adult life without school), one that I didn't know was going to be one or was hoping I guess wouldn't be judging from my current progress of social development.
I'd spent the past 2 years doing all I can to learn about myself and my mental illnesses, what exactly they are, what they entail, how they work and influence my thoughts, behaviors, and actions since I was a child, and now after 3 I know quite a fair amount. All without being officially diagnosed, which I believe is a privilege, expensive and not worth it to be misdiagnosed multiple times, common for females/people like me who spent their whole lives feeling like they were different and didn't figure it out until later on, might get officially diagnosed sometime in the future who knows, but the point is, after 3 years, even knowing quite a fair amount and doing all I can do on a personal level to learn to live with my neurology, sometimes, most times, really, OCPD, it feels like it's not enough.
There's still so much about myself and life to discover, and even though I know so much and knew that I wouldn't be able to manage everything in such little time, most likely it will take the rest of my life, or a good chunk, learning to live with disability, all I can do I guess is just try my best to learn to live with it, now knowing.
Since I'm one of the only Colored Female Adult Autistics I've met in person, I want to be honest about the state of my life, in the hopes that my story will resonate with someone in a similar situation, help, and continue to make progress towards feeling peaceful about it, even amidst relentless OCPD perfectionism about being unable to be normal. I never was.
And that's fine, but life would be a hell of a lot easier if I wasn't writing this with an untreated sinus infection from the beginning of the year and struggling with executive function to keep my brains, which have felt like they've been slowly turning to mush in this pandemic, sharper. (One of my last goals to accomplish this year before we add a number.)
So, turning 27. Oh gosh. Mixed feelings^^''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
How do I feel about it? Well, at first, I guess a few months before my actual birthday, I was actually feeling pretty good about it. 26 was a struggle, and after working hard at my own pace I was looking forward to leaving it behind and upping a level. I enjoyed being 26, but the idea of 27 felt so much more official, more adult, while being 26, I still felt like somewhat of a kid. (Always been a late bloomer, and I'm okay with that:)' lies!*)
Anywho, it felt good to be a little older, while also keeping my eye out for 30.
Typing it out however, was a bit of a shock. Crap. I'm 27. That's 3 years away from 30. What have I done with my life exactly? Not very much according to my OCPD. Logically feeling depressed kind of makes sense, but to feel so depressed and triggered staring at the number on my Instagram profile, so much so that I didn't even want to look at or acknowledge it when I logged on is kind of a travesty. (You should celebrate! No, I don't want to, even if we're in a pandemicđź’”)
I blew out a Polar Pizza with my family, Baskin Robbins version of a mint chocolate chip ice cream cake, had some Thanksgiving leftovers, and blanked out on the wish. I have no idea what I wished for when I turned 26, if anything, but I guess the only thing it made sense to wish for at the time was to be happy. (Not bad, right? Too generic?) And to do the same the next year, and the next year, and the next year...
And I guess that's all I want. The problem is though, that realistically, no idea who I'm channeling right now to get this blogging voice, is that happiness looks different and depends per person, and that is why being a young adult or more official adult is so stressful.
I want to be happy. Inner voice from the nethermost depths of your soul automatically whispers back: how? WELL, I don't really know^^'
But it's my job to find out