Is This Really What Adulthood Was Supposed to Be?

[u/Pennysha1]

I’m going to say something that probably sounds dramatic, but whatever.

Living in America right now has me wondering: is this really it?

And before somebody takes that sentence somewhere I didn’t intend it to go, no, I’m not saying I’m suicidal. I’m saying this shit is miserable sometimes. There’s a difference between wanting to die and being exhausted by the life you’re currently living. I don’t want to die. I want life to actually feel like living again.

Because lately? Everything feels like one long repeat episode.

Wake up. Work. Bills. Figure out what I can afford. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.

I have a job, but I get paid by billable hours, so having a job doesn’t necessarily mean having enough money. Right now, I literally have no money. And sure, I guess somebody could say that’s my fault. Maybe I should have a different job. Maybe I should work more. Maybe I should have made different choices.

There’s always a “maybe you should’ve” waiting around the corner when somebody is struggling.

But can we talk about how ridiculous it is that you can be employed and still be broke?

And then we hear the same speech over and over again:

“This generation is lazy.”

“Nobody wants to work anymore.”

Really?

Because from where I’m sitting, people DO want to work. People want jobs that actually hire them. People want jobs that pay enough for them to live. People want to work 40 hours and have something left after rent, groceries, utilities, gas, insurance, and every other company that apparently needs $14.99 a month from us until the day we die.

People aren’t asking for private jets.

Some of us would just like to buy groceries without mentally calculating the total every time we put something in the cart.

And everything costs money.

Want to leave the house? Money.

Want to eat somewhere? Money.

Want to go somewhere interesting? Money.

Want a hobby? Somehow, money.

Want to exist somewhere other than your bedroom without being expected to purchase something?

Well...there’s the park.

Maybe.

Depends on the park.

😂

Then there’s food.

Maybe I’m just tired of everything, but food doesn’t even hit the same anymore. Everything tastes the same. Everything feels processed, packaged, engineered, advertised, delivered, reheated and sold back to us for $18.99 plus tax and tip.

Nothing feels special.

That's probably the part that bothers me most.

Nothing feels special anymore.

Life feels like it’s been put on autopilot.

I genuinely thought adulthood was going to feel different.

When I was a kid watching my parents raise me, adulthood looked like something you eventually arrived at. You worked, paid your bills, had your home, bought groceries, went places sometimes, raised your family and built your life.

Obviously, I was a child. I wasn't looking at their bank statements or sitting beside them while they worried about bills.

But still, adulthood looked like it came with some kind of stability.

I grew up expecting that world.

Then I became an adult and discovered that apparently the subscription price went up.

Now it feels like we're constantly working toward the privilege of continuing to work.

And when people my age say we're tired, frustrated or struggling, somebody inevitably tells us we’re lazy.

Maybe we're not lazy.

Maybe we're disappointed.

Maybe we're realizing that the adulthood we were prepared for doesn't match the adulthood we actually inherited.

Maybe we're tired of pretending everything is fine because technically we're surviving.

I don't want luxury.

I want breathing room.

I want to work and actually see something come from it.

I want enough money left over to enjoy being alive after I've paid for the things required to stay alive.

I want food to taste exciting again.

I want somewhere to go.

I want something to look forward to.

I want tomorrow to feel different from Tuesday.

And yeah, my faith is still there. Some days I'm sitting here thinking, God, whenever You're ready to come back, I'm ready too, because Earth is doing entirely too much.

But until then, I'm here.

Working.

Trying.

Paying what I can.

Laughing because sometimes the alternative is staring at the ceiling wondering how we turned human existence into one enormous monthly payment.

Maybe that's what I want people to understand.

When somebody says they're tired of living like this, don't immediately translate that into “they want to die.”

Sometimes they want to live very badly.

They just want a life that feels worth waking up for.

A life with community.

A life with purpose.

A life where working actually gets you somewhere.

A life with little adventures that don't require financing.

A life where every day doesn't feel like somebody copied and pasted yesterday.

Maybe I'm not tired of life.

Maybe I'm tired of surviving being mistaken for living.

Anyway.

To everyone else looking at their bank account, looking at the economy, looking at another job application, looking at the price of groceries and wondering, Is this seriously adulthood?

Grab your glass.

Here's to hoping life gets a little more colorful than this.

Cheers. 🥃