I WISH MY TWENTIES WOULD HAVE LASTED AT LEAST THIRTY YEARS

A woman goes to the doctor… and finds out?

And finds out?! Well let’s start at the beginning.

Half moon

Lately I have been having rather annoying heart palpitations and I decided to see my doctor. Yes, I was also a little scared. So I went to see her today and I sat with her, chatted with her, let her do all that voo-doo stuff she usually does with her equipment and politely and patiently I waited for the verdict.

Now, I cannot say what I was expecting to hear, since a part of me was simultaneously scared and already prepared for the worst, and my other – my usual – part was simply set on ignoring everything what was going on inside and outside of me, thoroughly convinced, I would live to feel much worse some much later time in my life.

Both parts of me, however, were not prepared to hear what she had to say. Simple – I am just getting older. That is it, I am just getting a little older, day by day, minute by minute. I could not believe it. I am getting old.

I am thirty-two, I have not even lived half of my life yet (I hope) and she tells me there is nothing I can do about it and that it will probably only get worse with time. Seriously, I was offended.

Way outta line

“No!” I said to her, “No, I want it to get back to how it was before. I want to feel good, and normal and like I am still on top of things. I am not ready for this ageing thing. This just isn’t me, this is for old people!!!”

But she could not be convinced. She simply explained to me that our bodies were not built to last. The way nature intended it, according to her, we are supposed to breed as fast as we can in our late teens and early twenties, support our kids for as long as we can, but say our goodbyes and croak as quickly as possible as soon as we hit our thirties. And she concluded that any disease-free year after forty is not simply given, but has to be won by hard work and discipline.

Sucks, and I do not think she was lying to me. She is my age and very cool, but as I was leaving she complained about a constant pain in her knee, and it hit me! I knew what she was talking about! I too have constant and constantly recurring pains all over my body, I too, am not as stretchy as I used to be when I do yoga, I too cannot run as far as I used to be able to, I knew exactly what she meant!

I used to think that all this is just because of too much work and stress and that if just took some time off and got back on track with my work-out, I would be just fine and right back to normal.  I never realized, though, that while I was looking away and doing my thing, what I was ignoring was creeping in and slowly but steadily becoming the new normal. I will never feel like I did in my twenties again! Damn it! No work-out, no diet, no magic potion will ever bring me back to my twenties. I WISH MY TWENTIES WOULD HAVE LASTED  AT LEAST THIRTY YEARS!!!

It is just not fair that this would happen to me while I was not watching. I thought I would be eternal. I thought that I would live forever I thought that at the very least I would be young for a hundred years and then die a sudden and non-painful death.

I have watched all of those wrinkly and grey people, stooped over and walking around with canes, sporting glasses, hearing-aids and fake teeth, and I thought I will NEVER be like that. No, I never! I would take care of myself. I would be cautious and I would react to the very first sign of ageing I would fight it vigorously until my magnificent victory over life and time, until its sad and pitiful end. I knew my entire life, that if push came to shove in this battle, I would walk out a winner. A shiny, glowing, strong as an ox winner.

Yeah right. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror anymore, without instinctively starting to count my grey hairs. I pretend not to notice how much I have changed in just two years time. I am scared and I am petrified by all the unknown that lies ahead of me, because I am getting the feeling that it will not be as nice as what lay ahead of me ten years ago was. But what scares me the most is loosing my strength.

Would I make it through if s**t happened? I never doubted that before, but now I know that there are people who are stronger than me. Would they make it first? Would they help me? Would they at least help my child? And would they continue helping her and would they love her the way I do? I know I should not even go there, not even in my thoughts, but I bet I am not the only one asking myself these questions. I am not the only one who depends on me either.

I understand now why people fight for money and power so much. They are just scared, like me, that otherwise they will die weak and alone and no one will care. They know their bodies will not support them forever, so they have to depend on their power and money to do it for them. Hey, if they cannot climb the stairs anymore, they can afford to pay someone to carry them.

But what if they cannot afford it? Well it is the end of the line at the bottom of the stairs. Bye, bye and be gone old, wrinkly thingy! If you cannot afford to pay someone, you are done and the world bids you farewell. Go die now. Or, to be politically correct, go into non-existence now! Go! Just go!

And this is what scares me. And them too. And you too. I know it. I know it does.

Misty top

But there is nothing that can be done about it, and I did not realize it, until it was too late. Acceptance is probably the best way to go. So, bon voyage my youth, we had some really great times together. But maybe, just maybe, if I changed my diet and exercise a little bit, then maybe I could catch you again?