I’m 60. My biggest problem is having to work 50 or 60 (or more) hours a week just to keep up with the bills. Plus I have a bedridden wife with cancer and we’re raising our oldest grandson. As Sargeant Murtaugh once said, “I’m getting too old for this shit.”
37 and I’m going blind. I don’t know how long it will take, when I will be legally blind and unable to live my life with the richness, independence and everything else I expected, but it’s coming. It’s a crushing inevitability. Every day that I get to see my loved ones faces is a gift.
40’s and I drink too much and need to lose weight. I only drank 3 times in February and I’ve increased my daily walks so I’m working on it!
I’m just trying to find some reasons to not hate my own existence. But here we are. A couple days ago was my 43rd. My finances suck. I’ve been depressed most of my adult life but I’m just really sad right now too. There is a difference between sad and depressed and I’m both right now. And I don’t deserve to be either, I’m healthy, I still have all my limbs and digits thanks to modern medicine, and there are people who care about me, which makes the depression just feel like even more of a failure. I hope you feel better soon. I hope I do too.
74 and don’t really have any problems other knowing my time is limited. Don’t buy any green bananas. 🙂
78, and knowing I am terminal. I can handle it, but everybody else is in denial. I’m hearing lots of, “After all, doctors don’t know everything, do they?”
No. They don’t. But they do know the five-year survival rate is 1%. Now let’s all say that together boys and girls.
“The five-year survival rate is 1%.”
59 and my thoughts are consumed with losing my wife(and best friend). I’ve loved her for 42 years. I want 42 more.
The olderI get the shorter it all seems, Ive heard the same from everyone. Everyone pretends to be at peace, I thinik it’s more for the others than that they really believe it. There isn’t anything you can tell someone when they are 16 that they will ever truly understand until they’re 60. I suppose this is where the bitter sweet thing hits. But it hits really fucking hard when it does.
61(F)… Relationship heartache and likely to be let go at work. I’m too old for either of these when 6 years away from retirement.
29. All my bills are going up, but my paycheck is not.
I’m 62 and I am watching my wife die day by day from pancreatic cancer. She is the love of my life, God’s gift to me. I had been married before but never have I known love until I met her. I cannot breathe. I cannot cry because I must be strong for my beautiful bride. My heart is breaking day by day. When the end comes I cannot imagine living a day without her smile and laughter.
My mother just passed away, leaving me with implied responsibility for my same-aged brother with special needs. There was no plan, despite me begging them for years to figure something out. I live ten hours away and work full-time plus. Now I’m supposed to figure it all out.
31, grief, anxiety, money, never being able to afford a home and by extension claw my way out of poverty. I have more money now than I ever did in my life and it still won’t get me anywhere.
55, live alone, work 100% from home, and have no friends and family. Shit be lonely.
27 and more and more I’m coming to the horrifying realization that I don’t really like the world, where it’s headed, the way we idolize and reward cruelty and selfishness, the way the world is just kind of… ugly. This is not the world I envisioned living in when I was younger, and that crushing realization is a lot to come to terms with. Some days are especially difficult. Other days I wonder whether it’s worth sticking around for something I dislike so much.
I’m 48 and my son is 16. He has a muscle eating disease call Muscular Dystrophy and has lost the use of his legs, his arms have weakened to the point that he can barely lift a glass and he’s in a wheelchair. He has an upcoming major surgery for scoliosis (caused by the disease) that will enable him completely for up to a week. He worries about it and about the disease (dying) and on top of that, he gets very depressed about not being able to do the things that other kids his age can do. I worry constantly about him, but there is nothing I can do. That’s my biggest problem (he’s not the problem, but the fact I can’t do anything but worry).
My kids won’t stop getting sick. They’re missing so much school. It’s like their bodies have decided to just alternate weeks with different respiratory viruses.