A thread about ageing (1 Viewer)

I appreciate this is coming from a privileged position of never having had significant health issues before (probably reasonably lucky, at my age), but I came home today to a letter inviting me for an MRI scan in October following referral a couple of months ago. And that's after blood tests and urine tests earlier this week which I'm waiting the results of.

It just kind of makes me wonder 'oh, is this IT now?' for the rest of my life.
 
For me, the hardest thing about getting older is the accumulation of psychological wear and tear; the destabilisation of footing/swag that once seemed much surer. That feels particularly acute as you approach middle-age and rue all the lost possibilities, question whether you made all the right calls - self-doubts which exacerbate the scar tissue. I grew up in a suffocatingly small town so I think I strived to splatter life onto as grand a canvas as I could possibly find, to live every shade of emotion as intensely as it could be felt (for better or worse), to refuse to allow mere material constraints to inhibit the actualisation of childhood dreams that were never destined to become reality. You end up admired for being so brazen - folks at home guffaw and herald you as some sort of touring art installation. But all of that exacts a considerable, unseen toll. And doesn't the grass always seem greener, no matter who we are or what we've done? Part of me wishes I'd just stayed put, married young, toiled away in a job that I'd spend my entire life moaning about, etc. I wouldn't have been a natural in the role, but I would've played it convincingly enough despite the artifice. Yet I imagine that would've exacted its own toll, too.

And I feel that's the crux of the issue for me atm. Life hitherto has been about defying others' expectations and refusing ascribed roles. You become more sensitive to this stuff when you're the only neurotypical (eh), able-bodied child of socially-conservative immigrant parents who've invested multi-generational aspirations in your ability to succeed in the Western rat race. It's a slap in the face when you somehow luck out with all the tools to thrive in said race, but instead choose to run off and spend your time gallivanting around the 'Third World' (I hate that bullshit term fyi) that they were trying to shield you from in the first place. So there's a palpable pressure to make sure that your own vision of success bears some sort of fruit beyond pretty travel pix. But 'mad young backpacker' has a limited shelflife, and at some point you realise that you don't want to rough it and roll around in the muck with 20-somethings anymore. Not that you ever really did, it just came with the part. And then you realise that the existence that you fought so hard to carve out for yourself was at least somewhat founded upon an illusion. And also that, despite the natural defiance that you trumpet, you consistently wonder if you should be measuring life by others' parameters rather than your own. 'Mad young backpacker' still fits very easily, but the perceived norms I've internalised tell me I should be ageing out of it by now. Husband/father/property owner/etc. seem either undesirable or unattainable. So then: what? And all the while, those regrets, the things that you could (should?) have done, seem to echo louder with each passing year.

Ageing, to me, feels like it's about renegotiating roles. Trying to find some sort of authenticity within all the artifice that overwhelms. The most challenging performance of all seems to be not convincing others of your own merits, but convincing yourself. I'd never dream of applying a checklist of 'things you should have done by this point' to anyone else based on their age, so I guess it's up to me to learn to be kinder to myself. Reading some of these responses suggests that's something many grapple with. It's a learning curve.

Anyway, the hope is that, if I am forced to wither in CONVENTIONAL terms (and I shan't), then at least I'll follow the grand old tradition of elderly grumps NOT GIVING A FUCK and be AUTHENTIC in that sense, so here's to THAT if nothing else!!!
 
To be honest, I just trawl on the make-up, try do some squats and take pills for everything from hair loss to fibre to stomach issues and fingers crossed I still look OK in the mirror.

To be fair I’m happy with it.
 
For me, the hardest thing about getting older is the accumulation of psychological wear and tear; the destabilisation of footing/swag that once seemed much surer. That feels particularly acute as you approach middle-age and rue all the lost possibilities, question whether you made all the right calls - self-doubts which exacerbate the scar tissue. I grew up in a suffocatingly small town so I think I strived to splatter life onto as grand a canvas as I could possibly find, to live every shade of emotion as intensely as it could be felt (for better or worse), to refuse to allow mere material constraints to inhibit the actualisation of childhood dreams that were never destined to become reality. You end up admired for being so brazen - folks at home guffaw and herald you as some sort of touring art installation. But all of that exacts a considerable, unseen toll. And doesn't the grass always seem greener, no matter who we are or what we've done? Part of me wishes I'd just stayed put, married young, toiled away in a job that I'd spend my entire life moaning about, etc. I wouldn't have been a natural in the role, but I would've played it convincingly enough despite the artifice. Yet I imagine that would've exacted its own toll, too.

And I feel that's the crux of the issue for me atm. Life hitherto has been about defying others' expectations and refusing ascribed roles. You become more sensitive to this stuff when you're the only neurotypical (eh), able-bodied child of socially-conservative immigrant parents who've invested multi-generational aspirations in your ability to succeed in the Western rat race. It's a slap in the face when you somehow luck out with all the tools to thrive in said race, but instead choose to run off and spend your time gallivanting around the 'Third World' (I hate that bullshit term fyi) that they were trying to shield you from in the first place. So there's a palpable pressure to make sure that your own vision of success bears some sort of fruit beyond pretty travel pix. But 'mad young backpacker' has a limited shelflife, and at some point you realise that you don't want to rough it and roll around in the muck with 20-somethings anymore. Not that you ever really did, it just came with the part. And then you realise that the existence that you fought so hard to carve out for yourself was at least somewhat founded upon an illusion. And also that, despite the natural defiance that you trumpet, you consistently wonder if you should be measuring life by others' parameters rather than your own. 'Mad young backpacker' still fits very easily, but the perceived norms I've internalised tell me I should be ageing out of it by now. Husband/father/property owner/etc. seem either undesirable or unattainable. So then: what? And all the while, those regrets, the things that you could (should?) have done, seem to echo louder with each passing year.

Ageing, to me, feels like it's about renegotiating roles. Trying to find some sort of authenticity within all the artifice that overwhelms. The most challenging performance of all seems to be not convincing others of your own merits, but convincing yourself. I'd never dream of applying a checklist of 'things you should have done by this point' to anyone else based on their age, so I guess it's up to me to learn to be kinder to myself. Reading some of these responses suggests that's something many grapple with. It's a learning curve.

Anyway, the hope is that, if I am forced to wither in CONVENTIONAL terms (and I shan't), then at least I'll follow the grand old tradition of elderly grumps NOT GIVING A FUCK and be AUTHENTIC in that sense, so here's to THAT if nothing else!!!
Poetically put and as someone who has followed an unconventional path compared to my peers a lot of this resonated. Its human nature to ponder the ‘what ifs’ but I’ve come to terms with the fact there is no way a career and steady, traditional life would have worked for me, and I’ve certainly not missed out on much all things given.

If you ever look at the regrets people have on their deathbeds, its usually the things they didnt do, not the things they did. I like to remind myself of that when I’m comparing myself to school friends with mortgages and careers.
 
Although I spent 4 hours looking at classic volvo estates for sale last night so maybe i should shut the fuck up about ageing
 
I know I'm relatively young still, but I have noticed a big shift in the last couple of years. The biggest difference was after sustaining a bad injury and just noticing how less agile and flexible I am when it comes to moving about.

Also definitely harder to keep down weight.

I don't get too bothered by the prospect of ages, but there's definitely been an invisible line crossing.
 

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If you ever look at the regrets people have on their deathbeds, its usually the things they didnt do, not the things they did. I like to remind myself of that when I’m comparing myself to school friends with mortgages and careers.
And if you enjoy the things you are doing and have done, does it matter so much anyway if they weren't exactly what you had planned 5, 10, 20 or more years ago?

If I think of the few things I could describe as I regret, they all come with a 'but if I had done that, then...' attached. I wouldn't have had that experience, or met that person, had that relationship, etc - things I absolutely would never want to have missed. How can you consider that a regret?
 
And if you enjoy the things you are doing and have done, does it matter so much anyway if they weren't exactly what you had planned 5, 10, 20 or more years ago?

If I think of the few things I could describe as I regret, they all come with a 'but if I had done that, then...' attached. I wouldn't have had that experience, or met that person, had that relationship, etc - things I absolutely would never want to have missed. How can you consider that a regret?
Oh god no, so much of my life has been happy accidents, plans gone awry and even emerged out of tragedy. I lost everything and ended up with a life I once couldnt dream of. This is why I find it so strange when people get to an arbitrary milestone and say ‘well, thats everything over’
 

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