What. The. Fuck. 

You know? Becoming an adult was something that was supposed to be a gradual experience. I never thought it was gonna smack me up side the head & say “Hey! HEY! Wake up dumbass. You had your twenties to fuck up. You’re 31. You’re a GROWN MAN. Start acting like it.”

I hate responsibility. So much so that opening my mail gives me anxiety. So I usually toss everything until I get a voicemail (which I won’t listen to) then the repetitive phone calls from the same number & no voicemails. That’s when I know it’s time to just call & pay. 

I recently attempted to join the military. It’s always been something I wanted to do. It was the one thing that was mine. The one thing that no one knew about me. And only a handful know I tried. I was turned down because I have a tattoo on my hand. A stupid impulse. Now I can’t fulfill my dream. I was gonna surprise everyone by fulfilling my dream & joining the military to be a part of something amazing. My dad wouldn’t be embarrassed. My mom wouldn’t feel hopeless. My grandparents would quit looking at me with ‘that’ look in their eyes. Honestly, I could get the tattoo removed but because of the afore mentioned lack of responsibility, I can’t afford it. 

I took myself off the dating grid. No more online dating profiles. No more hookup apps. Then. All this buried crap started coming to the surface. All this ‘grown up’ responsibility & pursuit of fulfillment. I was perfectly fine charging headlong into oblivion. And while this has added an immense level self loathing & self doubt, it’s also incredibly liberating. I may be behind my peers by 5 years or so, but I’m finally starting to unravel my past & be myself. 

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