adulthood

Adulthood may be either or both physical or mental. Physical adulthood is often considered to be achieved at the age of 18, or 21 in some cultures. Mental adulthood in some form can come as early as 10 or 12 if a child is pushed into it due to circumstances.

Part of me is happy that I am finally being treated with more respect, and part of me wonders what all this means. I don't know how to live as an adult. I only know how to live as me, but even that has changed without my noticing, I try to be honorable and fair with my dealings with others in ways I never considered before.

I have finally found peace with myself. I finally live in a world surrounded by caring friends, even if some of them are thousands of miles away. But I don't know what to make of this adulthood thing. I don't think about it much but every now and then I'm reminded of the fact that thirty is just around the corner, that they will actually let me buy a house, that getting married isn't that crazy of an idea, illegal, yes, but not crazy, and that the next person I fall for may be the one I spend the rest of my life with.

I don't understand this adulthood, but for now I won't worry about it. My life is good.

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I fear adulthood.

I guess it's due to impulses from my surroundings, stuff I see on the TV and things I pick up from people who've already entered it.

I love having time. Lots of it. When I awaken on a Saturday or Sunday morning, the best thing I know is being able to lie there, not caring whether I get up right now or if I fall asleep again and wake up in a couple of hours. When I get home from school on weekdays, I have time. Time to perform all sorts of non-school-related activities.

And responsibility. I hate that. I don't enjoy having other people's lives depend on myself, my actions or the choices I make. I like not having to keep appointments, having to be places, having to commit myself.

It seems to me that, when you become an adult, you never have time. You have to wake up early, even on weekends. There's a million things you have to do. All adults complain about all the stuff they have to do, but never get around to. Adults never have time to sleep till 12 o'clock in the morning, they never have time to watch a movie, they never have time to read a book, they always have to do this and do that.

Adulthood also seems to carry with it huge amounts of responsibility. You can't be late for work, because people expect you to be there. You have to pay all the bills, fix the roof, get married, mow the lawn, drive the children to school, buy groceries, get the TV repaired and so on.

And then your parents die. It's bound to happen. I know I'm pretty lucky to have parents that are happily married and still alive, but parents don't last forever, like they should. I know a lot of people lose their parents even before reaching adulthood, and I can't for the life of me imagine how that must feel. I don't really want to think about it, but, just like my next dentist's appointment, it'll come up eventually, and it'll be like being hit square in the face. I'm not prepared for that, and I don't think I ever will be.

To me, it seems there are almost no positive sides to being an adult. It seems like a boring, repetitive middle part of life that lasts until you grow old and die. Like one big down-hill.

It's a murky and depressing view on it, I know, and it's probably not true, either. It can't be.

But I'll find out soon enough.