One of the big, over-arching themes of My Third-Life Crisis is that life can be hard. Well, maybe “hard” is the wrong word. “Challenging” is probably more appropriate. I’m not sure that life is ever “easy” per se. I think that it cycles between being more challenging, less challenging, and then there’s that coasting thing that happens from time to time.
Coasting is that good feeling you get, when everything seems to be going really well. You’re happy, smiling, and life feels completely effortless. Though it’s not good for the premise of my blog, I’m happy to say that I’ve been coasting on and off lately, and I have my dino hunt to thank for that.
I know that even when I have my “10” life, I’ll still have bad days. We all have colossally bad days every now and again. These are the days when from the time you wake up, until the time you go to sleep, it appears that shit is rolling down a steep hill and you’re standing at the bottom.
I had one of those downhill kinds of days this week. As I found myself (TOTALLY NOT WEEPING) in my car while parked on a side street, I remember thinking “I want to go home.”
The trouble was, I AM home. There’s nowhere to go that’s more “home” than the very town and physical house where I grew up with my family all within a reasonable driving distance.
What I think I really wanted was an adult. In a technical sense, I am an adult, but when things get challenging, I always want to look to someone a bit wiser, and a bit more put together. An adult who is an adult-ier adult than the adult I felt like I was being. In that moment, I needed to talk to someone who was feeling just a bit more grounded than I was.
It’s funny because those crumbling, shit-storm kind of days make me feel like so much less than the adult I’ve become. As an independent person, I find it hard to reach out to friends at these times and ask for help. I’m getting better at it. I’m learning in my thirties that asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness. Asking for help doesn’t make me any less capable as a human. It just means that I’m aware of my strengths and weaknesses- and as long as you’re not some kind of robot, self-awareness is an invaluable tool in the world.
I’m sure I’m not the first person to cry in my car on a tough day, and I’m positive I won’t be the last. But really, who cares? We all have tough days, and that’s part of being the adult-iest adults we can be. We suck it up, put our big girl panties (or superman underoos) on, and move forward.
I’m not coasting again yet, but days following the shit-storm have been tremendously better. That, my friends, is what this awesome life is made of: bouncing back.