Sarcasm Central

Join Me in a Heartwarming Gripe Session

Angst_bitch session_victoria sawyerWe’re all turning to muck in slow motion.  Let’s talk about why your 30’s SUCK! And please…feel free to bitch with me in the comments. It’s the only way to ease the existential meltdown. (I’ve also interspersed links for your pleasure.  Ha…your pleasure.)

So in some ways being in your 30’s is pretty damn cool.  You finally have things like your own house (hopefully), you are married/in a serious relationship (maybe), you might have a career or a job (I hope) and you might even have kids (maybe or maybe not depending on how much your body hates you) you might also finally be figuring out what the hell you want from life.  I say might because it’s like you only half know what you want.

The bad things are all the good things flipped around into negatives which is very easy for me to do. Flip a switch and every good thing about being 30 is a horrible, terrible thing.  Tied down with a mortgage and a house that’s gonna take MAINTANENCE. NOOO!  Trying to have kids…can’t.  Or struggle to have them.  Honestly I’m this close to sterilizing myself because…it’s just too much of a pain in the ass to try to have kids.  I need someone to just hand me a baby ASAP and all will be well.  Or not, because then you have to take care of your kids.  Oh and your career/job makes you miserable.

I think I’m set in my ways like some kind of old timer.  And now I’m coming to the BEST part about being in your 30’s.

BODY DETERIORATION AND FEAR OF DEATH!!

When you were in your 20’s death wasn’t scary, no way!  The reason is that you never ever even thought of it or if you did, it was for one second and you thought, DEATH CAN’T TOUCH ME!! I am INVINCIBLE!!! Or try to get me death, I laugh in yo’ ugly face!!  And you did stuff that would scare the pants off you now.  As an example, my husband has a 1972 Jeep CJ5.  This thing is pretty damn cool.  Bright orange, top down, windshield down, screaming down the highway, no problem!  Exhilaration, the feeling of being ALIVE.

Now picture me riding in the jeep at age 30.  Just a waist belt, no shoulder belt, no doors, top off, narrow wheel base, ripping down the highway at an ungodly 60 MPH and all I can think is…I’m gonna dieeeee!  And I keep imagining really creative ways in which this end could take place and since you can’t hear the music blasting from the speakers at this speed and you certainly can’t talk to the person in the car with you, there’s plenty of time to think.  Pass a few trees.  Hmmm…what if we flew off the road, rolled like a son-ofa-bitch and into the waiting arms of a kindly tree with a nice hardy branch slamming through the place where the passenger’s side door would normally be and right into my soft yielding body.  Owwie!!  Instant death.  Or maybe a head on collision, flying into the windshield if it happens to be up, no air bags, of course not!  I’m very inventive at coming up with ways for my demise.

Does this sexy beast look like a death trap?

Does this sexy beast look like a death trap?

I think the evil 30’s are when you reach the apex of your fear for death.  Someone might correct me and say that it only gets worse, but my hope is that this isn’t true and in fact my mother who is in her mid-50’s said, don’t worry later you’re not as afraid of death, it just becomes a part of life.  But right now I’m TERRIFIED that I’ll never get to do all the things I long to do.  I’ll never accomplish what I want and truly I’m having a pretty good freaking time with this writing/blogging business and I want to see it out.  See what happens.  Death better not be looming.

I also think you begin to see your body deteriorate.  All your life, if you’re lucky as I had been, things were going a long just fine, nothing wrong.  Then you get a bit older and something small goes wrong.  Okay, deal with it.  Then something else.  Then something a bit larger and pretty soon you feel like death is lurking around every corner.  You imagine that you only have so long to live and get anxious.  You take a shower and as the soap slides over your body you wonder which part of it will betray you next.  You watch for your hair to start falling out, if you see a few extra strands in your hands after shampooing you think..OH NO!!  I’m GOING BALD NOW!!!  And I’m a girl and baldness doesn’t run in my family.  However baldness could be a clue that something else is going on in your life.  Better watch and count how many of those hairs exit that pretty 31 year old head of yours. They are running from SOMETHING.

Then there’s the old face.  So far I’m blessed (knock on wood) that I don’t have any grey  hairs.  Sigh of relief.  However then you start to focus on wrinkles, age spots etc.  A few summers ago I noticed a few age spots forming on my cheekbones under my eyes.  I FREAKED my shit.  So I started wearing sunscreen religiously and so far they’ve seemed to have faded.  Thank the lord.

Also I’m fatter too.  Just sayin.  Every few years seems to add a few more lbs.  Part of this is due to being a writer, which you can learn about here.  Most of it is due to the fact that I’m stuck inside my head so much of the time lately that my body no longer has any interest for me, except of course for being vain and needing to actually survive.  And I am vain.  I’m not sure I can handle this body deterioration.  I wanna be hot and sexy FOREVER!!! (I’m failing at this and age isn’t the only problem…maintenance of said body is also an issue)  My only consolation is to think that at least people my own age might still find me attractive.

I said to my husband the other day as he learned about a small problem with his body that life is a curse, you’re given this amazing perfect body the day you’re born, freaking FLAWLESS.  Although the mind is yet unformed.  Then over time, extremely slowly you get to watch this body grow, peak and then begin its slow decline into a puddle of muck.  And it’s so slow that you get to really focus in on each and every ache and pain, each life threatening or merely annoying thing that happens to you.  I told him, if it happened in fast motion it would be the most disgusting thing you’ve ever seen, but luckily for us it happens at a snail’s pace so we can really enjoy it.  That does sound wonderful right?  How are we supposed to cope with this?

The other part of the joke that life has thrust upon us is that our brains only seem to get better with time!  Well…until the very end that is.  So yes, brain is this awesome smart wise thing with this crappy non-functioning body.  And the problem my friends is TIME.  WHY must time screw us, time and time again.  Going by, not stopping to chat or take a rest.  Just zoom zoom zoom. And it goes by FASTER And faster as you age.  When you were a kid a year took a million years, now a year is like 6 months and soon a year will be like 3 months.  This is just so life can torture you.death by jeep

And none of this my dear friends, has anything to do with that other life shattering problem whereby we have no idea what the HELL is going to happen to us when we finally do kick the bucket.  If this is a test, I gotta give props to the test maker/administrator cause he really nailed it.  This shit is SOME test.  Oh life!!!

Wait a freaking minute…have you noticed how DEPRESSING and NEGATIVE I am in all my posts.

Holy son-of-a…I gotta get a handle on this!  Ok, I’ll lie to you, my 30’s are awesome.  That is all.

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About Victoria Sawyer (282 Articles)
Victoria Sawyer is a blogger, author, aspiring graphic designer, social media enthusiast and mental health advocate. Shocking, honest, sarcastic and humorous, Victoria aims to make readers feel tangible emotions and physical sensations through writing that brings you into the mind and body of someone suffering from panic attacks, anxiety and this strange often darkly hilarious thing we call life. She published her novel Angst in 2013, which realistically and often graphically depicts life with mental illness. Along with crazy blogging, Victoria enjoys reading historical novels, playing with her naughty cats, engaging in rants and metaphysical existential meltdowns and using punctuation to excess in everything she writes.

2 Comments on Join Me in a Heartwarming Gripe Session

  1. You’re seriously hilarious.

    I’m in my mid-twenties and I’ve been having those freak outs for . . . a very long time already. AND I GOT MY FIRST GRAY HAIR IN MIDDLE SCHOOL. I am not kidding in the slightest. So feel lucky about that, at least.

    XD

    Like

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