Quarter-Life Crisis Told by Someone in the F**** Midst of it

Here I am writing again — it’s been a while. Things have changed drastically since I started publishing things on here back in 2020. Three years later, I have never felt more different from that bright-eyed twenty-two year old.

As most of us know, crisis begets transformation. Most likely you, dear reader, have been there before. As creatures of comfort and habit, we don’t ask for such a radical metamorphosis. But it just so happens that life works that way. On some level, you might be desperately seeking change because you know your current state is sub-optimal — or even detrimental — to your wellbeing. Perhaps you are slow to make that change, so the universe does it for you. And when that higher force conducts the process, you instantly regret not initiating it yourself. Because it can be fucking painful.

So, while there are various points throughout our life’s timeline where multiple crises may hit, the era of our 20s seems to take the lead. It’s during this point that we forget we are young, our identities barely developed as we attempt to make sense of who we are. And oftentimes we are way too hubristic and self-assured to acknowledge that we know very little about ourselves and the world. We think we know everything and make decisions based on these ideas (flashback to me getting married at 20 years old).

Irrationality defines this phase of life, but in my opinion, it is essential. It’s through the series of mistakes that our true identities begin to emerge and growth takes place. Thus, transformation gives rise to clarity, truth, and wisdom.

Just two years ago, I thought I was going to die. Yes, literally die. I felt like the greatest scumbag on the planet. I felt like the life was draining out of my veins, like I was on my last breath. I’m being a bit dramatic, but it was a revelatory period in the sense that I lapsed into the most reckless, self-destructive behaviors I’d ever encountered. I hated myself to the core and as a result, punished myself through drinking and drugs. I was more impulsive than I’d ever been. I made my relationships miserable and disengaged from the social world. I was toxic to both myself and to everyone else, and in a twisted way, I enjoyed and relished it. Oof — thinking about this makes me sick even now.

I barely recognized myself during this time. The world was a living hell and my future, a bland and dismal prison.

But now let’s flash-forward to the present. It took almost two years for me to rise back up on my two feet and understand this was simply a process of self-awakening, adulting, and recreating my identity. That phase humbled me thoroughly as I realized I knew very little about myself and the world. I was not as great a person as I previously imagined, and I was a bit delusional. The most beautiful part of this self-realization is that I embraced those flaws. I told myself it was okay. It was okay that I was arrogant or that I drank myself day till night. It’s okay as long as I learned from it and grew out of those ways.

Through this acceptance, I attempted to re-engage with the world and determine what my place in it would be. So I decided to commit to college — something I’d been evading. I mean, for someone feeling lost and confused, who wouldn’t take the easy route of feeling somewhat productive through school? I took multiple classes at my local community college, slowly gaining perspective about what interested me. I was still a mess, but I attempted to do my very best to achieve high grades. Then I got a job at a brewing company and began working for a mental health organization. Again, the process of coming out of my inner darkness to integrate myself into a larger community was harrowing, but ultimately enriching.

Without going into the details, I’ll illustrate a picture of where I am now. I’m healthy — physically, mentally, socially, and spiritually — and (almost) fully restored. I’d argue I am in a far better place now than I‘ve ever been in my life. I’ve been working out daily and eating a clean diet. I’m maintaining mental acuity by reading, doing schoolwork, listening to podcasts, and working on my own side hustles. Socially, I’ve found my people, finally. I’ve been going out regularly and having fun — smart fun, not reckless. And spiritually, I’m re-discovering what it means to be connected to some higher power — whatever it might be — and to nature, others, and myself. Hell, I even went to the jungles of Costa Rica and tried Ayahuasca, a transformative experience that undoubtedly altered my perspective of myself and life, and cultivated within me a deep sense of spirituality. More on that another time.

Now, I’ve fully dedicated myself to completing a degree in psychology, with the hopes of one day becoming a counseling psychologist. Miraculously, and I honestly don’t know how, I’ve been admitted to Columbia University and will be transferring there this fall. The next phase of my life awaits in Manhattan — a giant, intimidating metropolis full of possibilities. Here lies the next part of this unpredictable, intrepid, unsteady, and electrifying journey of being in my 20s.

This topic demands an entirely new blog post. While I’ve accepted Columbia’s offer, I am incredibly insecure about becoming a student at this eminent Ivy League institution. Imposter syndrome is a bitch, but thus, I’ll rant away on that subject another time :)

Harping back on the substance of my original story, self-reinvention is a tricky thing. Oftentimes it feels so calamitous that you might think you won’t survive it. But you ultimately do. I look back on the multiple chapters of my life with awe, nostalgia, and pride. I am proud to see where I was at the beginning of my adulthood at eighteen and now, approaching twenty-six. I feel sentimental in seeing the different environments I’ve immersed myself in, the people I‘ve known, the different identities I’ve tried on, and the experiences I’ve accumulated.

I must clarify that this story is not unique to me, but I speak to every young person going through a similar phase. This journey is strenuous and exhausting. There is no guidebook or class out there to help steer us in the right direction prior to leaving the nest at eighteen. There is no one to really show us how to think practically, practice healthy independence, and know who we are. And, more importantly, how to handle life’s ups and downs effectively. The phase of being in your late teens, 20s, and even 30s demands full surrender to trial and error and having enough self-awareness to grow out of those events. Hence, you may become a more resilient, confident, honest, and authentic human being.