quarter
Sorry. Woe is me. I’m in my early-mid 20s and I want to fucking scream. They call it a quarter-life crisis. Feeling unfocused and in limbo. It’s a new generation thing. It can go on for years, but basically I’m whining and bitching and moaning about not knowing what it is that I want from life.
We’ve all heard of the mid-life crisis. It’s that, but sooner - which I guess is a good thing. A mid-life is more about realising too late in life that there was something else out there for you to do. Something bigger, better, more fulfilling. But you did what society told you to do and got a job with a steady income, got a spouse, got a house, had some kids and now you’re like “WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING?!”.
A quarter-life is similar, but mostly different. It’s just getting out of university and into the workplace, the real world, and realising that the last three years of your life may have been a fucking waste of time and the next 20 years of your life are going to be spent repaying that waste of time back. This is the time to break out of the norm, go travelling, work in a bar, meet new people, try a creative profession - who gives a shit about those 20 grand loans anyway.
Ok, well, it’s not quite like that. It’s the thumb-twiddling what’s next. I don’t have anybody to tell me what to do now so how am I supposed to know what to do now.
Perhaps I should find myself a mentor.
Perhaps I should find myself a purpose.
Perhaps I should find myself.
The main difference between a mid and a quarter-life is that a mid-life has always been a sheep, a quarter realises they could become a shepherd.
But then again, we already think we’re the second coming. God’s gift. Our generation has been fed the idea of a fulfilling life, as we want it, when we want it. Now we either have to come to terms with the fact that we may never get it or have to work really fucking hard to get an idea of it. Except, we’re quite delusional as a generation so we’re always going to expect that we can have it all.
There are two main factors harming our generation - YOLO and FOMO. And this is the reason why you can’t have it all.
YOLO; abbreviation
You only live once
An idiotic excuse to think you can do whatever you want.
FOMO; abbreviation
Fear of missing out
The idea that if you do not participate in any given activity you will inevitably miss out on some important life-changing experience.
As much as the majority of our generation will not actively say these phrases out loud - or if they do, they insist it’s tongue-in-cheek - we all prescribe to them, whether consciously or subconsciously.
And why are they so harmful? Well I think it’s pretty bloody obvious, but if you need it spelling out, this;
Jane has just finished university. She doesn’t really know what to do next so she decides to go travelling, go teach English somewhere, build a yurt, build a school, raise some elephants or whatever it is you do on a gap year. Why not, you’re only young once. YO-YO. Except, a thousand and one other Janes and Amys and Graces and Theodoras are all thinking and doing the exact same thing. But they all reckon that if they don’t have such life experiences, they’re all somehow going to be missing out - fear of missing out. Plus, it’ll look good on their CV, how they raised a family of chickens in the outback of some developing country before getting a native to chop off their head - the chicken, not the girl’s - and eating it over a bonfire under the starry night sky.
I think I just threw up a little.
Then there’s John. He hasn’t finished university yet. He’s currently slumped over a table in the student union bar at 2 o’clock in the morning, eight hours before an end of term exam, because he’s just downed six Jagerbombs in a row, because, you know, you only live once. Somehow, I think this is going to be a short one.
But it’s ok, I’m not really one to judge. And besides, Darwin has a plan for everyone. Despite the obvious health implications, the reason why FOMO and YOLO are so harmful is really because we’re expecting something that will probably never come. We’re not living for life’s sake and we’re not fearing the idea of missing out. We fear the idea of life itself. (What the fuck does that even mean?!)
Let’s get back to me and why I’m here preparing to scream my guts up. You may have guessed, but I didn’t go to university. Or travelling. I guess that’s where the fear starts to creep in and I quietly start chanting “I only live once”. The words curdling in my head, turning into a stiff mush of nothingness because they don’t have the ability to form a coherent idea that will actually get me out of this state. So I join the dance floor of my own pity party to the tune of “it’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to”. Secretly, no matter your age, we’re all there. Not necessarily at the same time, but we’ll pass by. This is not to say that my pity party is just like your pity party or that your pity party is like John or Jane’s pity parties (I’m imagining a lot of late-90s to early 00s pop music), but we have all and will all be there at some point.
Ultimately, the question really is, why should I, you, care about your, my, shit? Boo hoo. I don’t know what I want from life. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m young and dumb and need attention.
“Everybody’s got shit to deal with. Grow up.”
But you read this fair, did you?