My Thoughts on "Feeling Like an Adult"

My original intention was to do a Sanity Check today.  It might happen tomorrow if I find the time, but this thought has been bugging me since two nights ago, and I need to express my feelings through the art of blogging, damn it!

So we're going to talk about the concept of "feeling like an adult" today.  It's going to be some-what short (hypothetically) and philosophical like my chemistry thought experiment, and I'll fulfill your need for humor at a later time.  Probably sometime before Friday, just to make up for the lack of seratonin pulsing through your noggin.

Two days ago, one of my roommates turned 21.  I know, it's not really surprising; people do it all the time.  But my other roommate made a remark about not "feeling like an adult," despite the fact that she and I are also nearing that fabled legal age of fermented intoxication, entry into all the concerts worth going to, and being hit on by every demographic of creepy banana-strokers:

It is rather surreal watching the people in my home-town grow up.  I swear, some of the girls I thought were still only 10 years old are seniors in high school now, preparing to go to college.  Hell, my own brother is in his sophomore year now, which is just insanity in itself.  The common reaction to this observation is to feel like one is in nearlly the same place they were all that time ago, that they don't in fact feel like they've "grown up" that much at all.  For the most part, we laugh at the same jokes, enjoy the same things, hang out with the same(ish) people. 

But I don't.  I'm not trying to put myself out there as something fucking special or anything, but I just don't feel like I've been so static in the maturity department all of these years.  Perhaps it is a function of the fact that I've had the age of 21 as the typical guess ever since I was 18 (it has since bumped up to 23 or 24).  As the years pass, I find that I'm just finally catching up with my mental and physical status.  I like to joke that "I'm finally going to be the age all those old dirty men think I am." 

My typical post-work MO.

We think of "feeling like an adult" as if it means taking on massive responsibilities or being independent.  If that's so, I've been feeling like an adult since early last September.  I'm financially independent, work two jobs, and juggle a social life with classes and extra-curriculars.  It's so odd because I do, to some degree, feel a vague separation from my roommates when I come home from one of those 8 hour shifts, knowing that I have another day at work come the morning.  I'm not trying to say that I'm more mature or better than them; we're just in different places.  Sometimes I hear the comment that people can't fathom working an 8 hour shift, that it would be "so long!"  Yeah.  It is long.  But you do what you have to survive, and eventually you get used to it.

It's strange walking through that door...like I'm an outside observer looking into an element of my past that is still very alive in other people.  Sometimes I come home, see them playing Mario Kart or talking about how bored they were today or just how they went shopping, even, and I really have to wonder to myself: "Where the hell did that part of my life go?"  Then I remembered that it was my senior year of high school and freshman year of college.  Ever since, I've been going straight from homework to work to MAYBE my boyfriend and then back to homework over and over again.  Hell, I couldn't even partake in my roommate's birthday party because I was scheduled to work that night and needed the hours.  I've got almost every minute of every day scheduled, and I can't imagine just not having to do anything.  It's almost overwhelming at times...makes me want to scream "MAKE IT STOP!", but I feel like having a huge amount of free time would really just put me at great unease, as if I had forgotten something.

I'm certainly independent.  I don't expect people to give me what I want anymore; I'm always ready to prove myself, to fight for it.  Being outspoken, confident, and even stubborn about my opinions of things and other people have become  commonplace practices.  I don't expect grand birthday parties or gifts.  I don't expect people to buy me things, especially for my parents to help me pay for anything.   That is part of the reason why I had to break it to my friends back in Colorado that I won't be coming home for Christmas.  (And if any of you are seeing this for the first time now, I'm really sorry and miss you and love you to pieces.)  It used to be simply a given that I'd go home for the holidays, but in my financial independence, I've met yet another bitch-slap of reality.  Not working means not making money and therefore not making rent.  How is it that this thought process has completely overtaken my desire to be around the people I love?  How is it that this fiscal responsibility has been the ultimate deciding factor?  I guess priorities change...

...I guess that's life.  I guess that's growing up.  It's letting people go.  It's letting people in.  It's making a new start, and keeping yourself strong no matter what.  It's finding what you're made of through trial and horrible soul-crushing error, and when you do discover it, it's about holding on tight and running like hell.  You have to be confident about it, unashamed, take it in your hands and sculpt your essence into something meaningful.  Because even if you don't realize it, your life--your adult life--depends on it, and it's the only thing in this world that will get you through.

So long for now, dweebs <3