Reflections on being 24

I turned 24 more than a month ago, and in some ways I feel older, other ways I feel younger. Sometimes I feel so young, and immature, and nowhere near prepared for the world, even as I draw closer to being a quarter of a century old. At the same time though, I've felt and gone through more than I'd wish on anyone. I don't think I've gone through more than anyone else, and I'm well aware that there's a lot of life that I've yet to experience. But I've felt many emotions that a human being is capable of, and some of them, I'm just fine with not ever feeling again.

I often feel like a kid: still worried about what people think of me, still obsessed with dressing to achieve a certain look or fit in with a certain group. I still feel the rollercoaster butterflies in my stomach when I meet a new guy, and the crash of getting rejected. The caveat is that I'm learning those feelings don't necessarily go away with physical age.

I often feel like I'm being stunted, because I WANT to mature and embrace a family, grow up and have a career. I often feel like I'm living in limbo, living a half-life, working full-time, but not at a job that will become a career, and owning a dog who gets treated like my child, but without a human child of my own.

I'm not sure, at this moment, where life is going for me. I nearly typed "where life is going to carry me," but I reject the notion that we have no control over our destiny. I believe we are the ones who decide our life path. I could have graduated 2 years ago from BYU, but instead I dropped out. Sure, I have anxiety, but truly do wish I'd known then what I know now. How differently my life would have turned out. I wish I'd sought help sooner. I wish I'd taken advantage of tutoring and study classes. It's not that I didn't care about school, it's that I couldn't.

I have this recurring dream, a nightmare, really, except not in the classic childhood sense, but in the dream I'm going to school over a period of several months, except I never make it to all of my classes in a day, and then, halfway through the semester I realize I've only been to my math class twice, and it's too late to even bother attending now. I go to a few classes as a token gesture, while trying to avoid the teacher, who is aware I haven't attended his class. The neverending guilt and dread continue to eat me alive as I continue to wind down attendance in all of my classes, to where a passing grade is impossible, and that once again, I've failed. That dream is more terrifying to me than any monster, because I've lived it, and I've lived the consequences of it, and I'm so scared that I'll repeat it.

I'm not sure, at this point, how to stop the cycle. In many ways, my life is stable enough now to avoid many of my problems that cropped up when I was at Westminster. I live at home and pay no rent, I have a stable job, and I have a dog, whose presence eases my mind daily. I think if I were to begin classes again, I'd likely be fine, but that fear still grips me.