Getting Old



Hello to the few readers we have,


Cat here. I know I know it’s been forever since I posted anything! This blogging stuff is ridiculously hard!! You’re suppose to spend hours planning what you’re going to write, and take meticulous notes and research. Which I swear I have been trying to do, but just haven’t been able to get the thoughts flowing.

Thankfully my beautiful girl friend has had some very deep thoughts flowing through that beautiful head of hers to cover my ass. But without further ado here are my thoughts for today:


…I’m getting old.


Okay, maybe by some people’s definition I am not actually getting old, in fact they’d probably call me pretty young, considering I turn 25 in less then a month. But too me, I might as well be a thousand.


I have always had issues getting older, for my entire life. I remember laying in my bed when I was around 8 or 9 just watching old family videos of myself from when I was 3 and 4 and just wishing and wishing I was that age again. I use to just watch them and cry constantly. My mom eventually had to actually take all the family videos and VCR from me because I was so unhealthily obsessed with my age and wanting to be younger.


And I’m still the same. I cannot think about the fact my birthday is coming up and that I’m going to be a quarter of a century old. People laugh at me when I say I’m getting old but honestly it stresses me out more then anything in my life.


I have been trying to think about how this happened. How did I suddenly become this age? Where did my life go? When I try to recall being a teenager or being younger then that even, it feels like a movie. Not like a life I lived, but like something I watched on TV. Who was that girl who was obsessed with the Spice Girls and soccer, and later in life cheerleading? Was that me? How was that me? I feel no emotional connection to her, she’s a stranger to me. Someone I just know a lot about but have never met.


I can’t stop think about this.


Why don’t I feel a connection to my younger self? Sometimes I think something terrible happened to me, so my mind blocked everything out to help with the pain. But as far as I can tell nothing happened…Or maybe my minds just working too well.

Maybe it all has something to do with my depression that I have been battling for at least two years (but I think a lot longer but that’s a different topic). Maybe it’s the medication I am on causing my brain to be so foggy?


Nonetheless, I can’t get older. I just can’t. I know it sounds silly but I honestly do not want to grow up.


I wish I was Peter Pan, so I never had to.








2 thoughts on “Getting Old

  1. I can so relate to this! I turn 25 tomorrow and I’ve been throwing myself a pity party for the last week. I look back at my life when I was 16, 18, 21, and it seems like another life. Time is flying by.


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