Thirty

 It is my birthday for another 55mins as of writing this right now.

To be honest, I expected it to be worse. There was a sense of a looming deadline as the birthday approached, as if I was sure to expire or feel some catastrophic change as a result of simply no longer being in my twenties.

Alas, it was uneventful when I awoke this morning. Genuinely nothing felt different. Perhaps it was the residual vodka from last night's drinking stream (thank you to everyone who helped make that successful), but honestly it was honestly anticlimactic.

However, as the day wore on, I couldn't help but feel like there is something wrong with me. Not for turning thirty, I know I can't change that, but for the fact that I've accomplished so little by this point.

For example, I have no partner, I'm bad at dating, I'm not very lean, I'm not very strong, I don't have a career, I haven't finished enough study to actually be able to use the degree I have, I don't know how to drive so I can't get a job in my field of study, and I'm broke. 

I finished a workout where I failed on squats and just left feeling less than. For obvious reasons I was hungry afterwards and might have unleashed some hanger at my friend, and then when the tiredness hit and I felt like crying, I immediately jumped into consuming content to numb out and ended up staying up later than I had anticipated. Then I climbed into bed and couldn't sleep because my heart was keeping me up, which resulted in more anxious interpretations of the thoughts I was having, and by the time I realised I was clenching my jaw (along with probably every other muscle in my body) it had been 30mins since I first tried to attempt sleep.

I might just need to go back on my antidepressants. I might not have anything wrong with me at all. This might just be the birthday blues. Perhaps it's the would-be hangover, or the introvert drain, or some combination of any number of factors.

Whatever the cause, I feel pathetic. I get jealous of other people for all sorts of things, be it their body, their confidence, them talking to my crush, them being better at the gym, whatever. I'm stubborn for the most stupid reasons, refusing to do things that would potentially resolve my concerns, simply because I'm stuck in some form of self-sabotage fuelled indignance. I'm convinced the people I care about simply tolerate me and are just keeping me around for a joke. 

I really wish I could make an effort to disprove myself, to find evidence for the contrary, to give myself a pep talk, self soothing and personal nurturing. 

At the very least, I can almost convince myself that perhaps this isn't just because I'm thirty now.