I’ve been thinking about what to say about this year’s birthday, and honestly? What am I supposed to say?
Middle age is a strange place to be, and I can understand a little more after the past few years how the concept of a midlife crisis comes about. Biologically the body might or might not be able to make it this far prior to modern medicine keeping everyone alive with a variety of pills well past their expiration date.
Want to know the average age someone died prior to the 20th century? Between the ages of 30 and 40.
I’m not by any means wishing for that outcome for myself or anyone else, let’s be crystal clear on that subject.
What I am saying is that biologically, the brain isn’t used to being around this long compared to the eons of past human lifespans, and hasn’t completely adjusted to the new way of doing things. What is one supposed to do when suddenly they’ve made it past the average age our ancestors would have passed away? Apparently, we waste a lot of the time we are given after getting “over the hill.”
So we lose our minds a little, and call it the ‘midlife crisis.’ Bad decisions are usually made, while we also begin to panic about certain aspects of our existence. Do I have enough money to retire (what is enough, exactly?) Am I going to keel over of a heart attack at any moment? (always possible, I guess.) Do I truly want to spend the rest of what years I have remaining with the woman I love? (100%.)
Decisions suddenly have an outsized impact on everything in my life. I want to spend $20 on a doodad for my birthday? Hmmm. I might need that $20 later…
I guess being The Big 4-0 hasn’t hit me the way I expected, hasn’t sent me spiraling toward any bad outcomes I could have imagined along the way. Instead? I feel indifferent.
Maybe I can be glad in the fact that I’m still here. A bad day above ground is still better than a good one buried.
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