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27 years old. It feels strange. I know that I’m growing older, and I’ve changed so much, but I still feel like I’m 21 or something. I’m sure most people can relate.
I see people who were barely people when I considered myself an adult, and they’re all grown up and adult as well. It freaks me out – How is he so tall?? – How is she already in high school?!
I’ve been excited about birthdays for most of my life. But as I grow older, they don’t mean as much to me. (One year I forgot and only remembered the day before.) I mean, I still celebrate with friends and family. I invite family members (that I like) over for cake. On another day, I invite some of my closest friends over for… well, cake. Which has become a great tradition, and of course I’m doing the same this year.
I don’t really give out a wish-list out anymore. To me, the presence of the people I care about is a gift enough in itself. People’s time is so much more valuable, especially in this day and age. I don’t need more things – unless they’re consumerable, like a nice, organic body lotion, or some chocolates, or maybe an I-owe-you for a nice dinner or a trip to the cinema. In general, I’m trying very hard not to accumulate more (unnecessary) stuff. Second-hand shopping has become a true passion of mine, as well as recycling/up-cycling. It’s become increasingly important to me over the last few years, and I don’t expect it to stop. It’s also one of the reasons why I declared “Gift-free Christmas” quite a few years ago. Now, there are exeptions. One example: my parents still insist on giving me presents. However, my dad and I have come up with a wonderful solution: whenever I need something during the year that I might not have money for at the time, he will buy it for me and “subtract” it from the Christmas Present money pool. A perfect deal, if you ask me. Definitely reccomendable.
As a child, time passed by so slowly. A week felt like a month, a year felt like three years. Now, a year feels like a month, and a week feels like a day. In retrospect, at least. A day can feel suuuuper long, but by the end of the week, you think: where did the time go? – I find that scary, especially since I have such a poor memory.
My grandmother started a sort of log journal many years ago, writing down events that were important to her. I got to read them a few years ago, and it inspired me to do the same. It gives me an overview and a perspective I otherwise would not have.
This is the format (an example from 2017):
28.11 Nevø Mathias Ladekarl Frydendal blev født!
01.12 Blev klippet og farvet hos frisøren. – Julefrokost på kontoret (Aronsen).
02.12 –
04.12 Kolding
10.12 Julefest hos Ylenia og co.
15.12 Birkegårdens Haver med far og mormor
21.12 Afleverede Bachelorprojekt
24.12 Juleaften hos mormor, med Kenneth og Onkel Erik
26.12 Natten til tirsdag blev min cykel stjålet.
For someone who has serious problems with timelines and remembering specific dates, this sort of journaling is priceless. It’s a great source of reference for me, also considering my illness – it’s helpful when I need to remember exactly when I was diagnosed, when I was in the different treatment programs, etc. Nice and practical.
Back in 2017, when I turned 25, I decided to write a recollection of my life. I did have quite the quarter life crisis, and had this despairing feeling that I had achieved almost nothing in my life. Of course, looking back, I realized that that’s not true at all. I think it’s healthy to reflect on your life like that sometimes, as it’s so easy to lose perspective. Hashtag relateable, am I right?
Towards the end of 2018, I was thinking back on the year as being really terrible for me. But when I said that to my boyfriend, he was like: what do you mean? – And he proceeded to remind me of all the things I had accomplished, how strong I had been, how I had not given up when depression came a-knocking, how consistently wonderful of a friend and girlfriend I was, and how proud he was of me. That kind of blew my mind – that I had completely lost perspective to such a degree that I was convinced I’d had an awful year, when I’d in fact had a pretty good one. I finally finished my BA; I managed to prevent a depressive episode and put my health first; I had amazing experiences with friends and family; started my own company – and put it on hold indefinitely due to health; I traveled; went to 2 weddings; met many of Nick’s friends and family members; I moved; and so on and so on.
It’s been a year of learning, growing, and self-care. And I should be proud of that.
So what’s next?
Well, hopefully I’ll get an internship (starting in March) at Depressionsforeningen, which is a voluntary association that deals with depression and bipolar.
I’d also like to find a paid, steady job, not full-time, but maybe 30 hours per week.
I’d love to finally move in with my boyfriend. Hopefully we’ll be able to find a place this year.
And decreasing my dosage of lamotrigine would be nice.
I feel like those are my goals for my 27th year. I’m ready to work – just not too much.
Return next Tuesday for a post about strategies I’ve used to prevent a depressive episode.
The Elephants in the Room 