"The 30th Year Blues"

It's been a while since I have posted a blog, and in part, a situation had occurred which had made it extremely hard to not only post something, but to actually write creatively. It was not going to happen. But here we are, and I have mustered the strength to write something and put everything in to words. Why not answer the question of, "Why?"

Something had occurred to me at the the turn of the New Year. Mother Time had made a sweeping, grand appearance and. It. Had. Occurred. To. Me.

I was now 30. 30. What have I done with my life?

The New Year had started off extremely rocky, more like a rockslide in the mountains of Rainier. I had lost my job at a restaurant, a business that I didn't like at all, and as much as it gave me relief that I wouldn't be taking orders from passive-aggressive employers, I was now without an income. With everything happening in the outside world, my world was already feeling its financial effects. This period would be a great time for self-reflection. My mind, had yet, continuously gone back to the thought.

I am 30. What have I done with my life?

Social media had constantly portrayed people whom I had grown up with, family members, and other people in my age range making moves in their lives or hitting milestones such as marriage and kids. I was not. I hadn't moved past the proverbial college stage. I looked it, acted it, and older mentally, but everything else read otherwise. My refusal to "grow up" or "Peter Pan Syndrome" was exacerbated when I had turned 30. Life had breezed by and I was still stuck with the beliefs that I had about myself while I was growing up. I wasn't good enough because I didn't get the honors like the people who did. I wasn't smart enough to even dream that big so why wouldn't that belief still be the same now at 30?

Negative self-talk had lead downward. Spiraled. Only to crash last Friday.

I had been feeling sad and stressed out with everything that had happened to that point and I went to see go a doctor. A "Behavior Aid Specialist" or the "Middle Man to WebMD" saw me and after 45 minutes of unraveling, recapping on the last few months; her diagnosis was to go to the Crisis Center. At the time, I didn't think I was necessarily "in crisis," however, my body had responded to unforeseen crisis differently to most normal individuals. Crying for three days for nothing must have been a sign. Or that my mind had gone back to the periods of my life that I had entertained dark thoughts through memories of broken relationships and the people who are no longer around. All the while dealing with brokenness with people I had loved dearly; reality was fleeting and the end was near.

While on the train towards the hospital, I felt that in the 30 years of living, I had only failed and this was the day I was done with failing. Yet, I had managed to get to those doors, after having a nervous breakdown outside of those doors. Yelling into my phone to my sister that I was now vulnerable and that the security blankets that I had carried with me were now gone. She assured me that those replaceable things were going to be retrieved if I took the step to better my mental health.

Sitting and waiting to be seen by the psychiatrist, I looked around to noticed that I wasn't going to get out of that white prison that day. I had checked myself in, not sure even how I had gotten to the point where I needed to. However, as I spoke to the nurse, I saw why this would have been the best option. I couldn't get past these 30 blues and I needed to regroup. With already having Bipolar, grasping things for what they actually were was apparently a trigger to my depression. Who knew?

A dead phone was locked up alongside my comfort blanket of nicotine, survival mode was now activated and I was alert to my surroundings. I was now at war. With myself. Telling myself that we were back at this place ONCE again and the stay wasn't going to be long. A personal prison that I had put myself, I had rules in which I ran it versus how it was ran. Repeating the story over and over, listening to the various positions in which the doctors were some as high as PhD level. Some looked as young as me, however, they were there to analysis me. A different reason than my own. I was the subject that gave the data towards their personal achievements. Toward their degree. A mouse in a cage. It was another payment in order to get some time for me to get over my "The 30 Blues."

During my stay, I had gotten into an altercation with one of the patients who happened to be an elder; tussling over what I consider at disruption in my belief system which only triggered me again. Respect is high on my priority list and it had been tested. Which the small bruises indicated on my knees, I had failed in the efforts of better myself. Though I had taken the consequences, it was a small victory towards discovering myself, which had been a goal of mine since I was in my 20s. That's something that I had still had time to do.

As short of the stay had been, chaos had ensued outside while I was out of touch to the outside world. A missing person report was put on me and I was now in the public eye, not for good reason or reward. Family and friends were all expressing concerns and prayers for my safe return home. Humbling me, the dark thoughts had begun to slowly disappear. Love was felt from far and wide, making suicide no longer an option or even a likely thought. I couldn't have experienced the unexpected compassion or love from unlikely people if I had gone through with ending it at 30.

The whole ordeal had made me look at turning 30 differently, as I left that hospital after four days. Atoning for the trouble I had caused when I was there but it was no longer needed for me to stay there any longer. I knew the solid facts of myself and it was now time for my own time to progress forward since I didn't want, nor desire to shorten it any longer. Dealing with the ones who showed their concerns during the difficult time of me being out of touch with everyone while explaining tough decisions to others. Looking at each situation and decisions as growth towards discovering a better me, which time has allowed me to do so, for the last 30 years. I'm now more aware that there are trial and tribulations on the adventure of life, each day makes life different, and while having years left, changing life's outlook and gains had always started at some point. Why not, at 30?