Personal Update: On turning 48

Today marks the completion of the 48th revolution of my corporeal existence on this ball of rock flooded with a substance we call water (chemical composition H2O) around a gaseous body whose core is a continuous fusion reaction primarily fueled by hydrogen and helium (i.e., our "sun," which we classify as a yellow star). In other words, it's my 48th birthday today.

And. I'm. Terrified. . . No. Make that petrified, immobilized by a foreboding sense of impending...change?

It's not that I haven't faced change before--I have, on numerous occasions and yet, I'm still here (despite more than a few attempts to the contrary but, I digress). NOTE: If you are having thoughts of not wanting to be here any longer, please--PLEASE--call someone and ask for help. Call your local mobile crisis hotline number, call 911, call your local Suicide Prevention Hotline.

Yet this time, something is different. I don't know if it's the times we're living in or the fact that I've completed four major zodiac laps around the sun. That is four groups of one full zodiac (take your pick, western or eastern zodiac, it's still four sets of 12).

I sense a great shift in the universe. And perhaps it's not so much that there's a change coming but rather that it's what's coming is going to be big. I mean really, really big. Ginorrrrrmous, even. 

Either that or I'm beginning to have one of those stereotypically male mid-life crises. Except, I don't have the means to change jobs and buy a fancy, new sports car or do any of the stereotypical things that go along with the stereotypically male mid-life crisis. I'm barely surviving here, y'know?

This brings me back to the deep, dark, foreboding, petrifying fear that something big is coming down the pipeline, and it scares the bejeezus out of me.

The past decade certainly hasn't been very kind to me. I've experienced traumatic losses. At the drop of a hat, I packed up and left everything behind in New York and moved to Connecticut. My mother's cancer returned for the fourth time so I moved in with her to take better care of her. A few years later that dastardly beast took her from me and I haven't even begun to process her loss a little over two years ago.

Since then, I've been homeless. And the homeless system is designed to keep people out of shelters and prevent individuals from utilizing what few resources there are. It's all designed to make it look like there isn't really a homelessness problem. Looks good on paper? Great! No problem here. Next! But I digress.

Perhaps it's not a mid-life crisis but rather the culmination of one? But that can't be, can it? Men well into their 50s have mid-life crises. So it must be something else.

Of course, men aren't the only ones who have mid-life crises. But I know very little of the mid-life crises that women have, other than "the change of life." And of course that it can, at times and in some instances, drive them completely doolally. 

It could just be my anxiety rearing its ugly head, the "not knowing what's coming down the road" bit. But I've been dealing with anxiety for nearly 30 years and I've done the breathing exercises. They're. Not. Working. In fact, if anything, they're making it worse.

I feel this shift in the Universe even stronger because I'm more in touch with the energies floating all around me. Oh sure, let's become mindful so we can get more in touch with how I"m connected to the Universe and the Big. Impending. Huge. Dramatic. Change. Like that's not dodgy at all! I'd best have Agathe Christie take a gander at it than try being any more mindful of meself. But once again, I digress.

It could be that since I've struggled so much with the past zodiac cycle, this next one is going to be glorious. But with my luck, I can't count on that. In fact, I've learned not to. But maybe that's the huge change that's coming, learning to think more positively? It couldn't be that simple though, could it? Expecting not to be disappointed? Not preparing for failure? 

That would be an extremely frightening new frontier. One I've yet to venture through. I'd have to learn how to navigate such waters from scratch. And charting the unknown can be truly treacherous times, indeed. No wonder the hairs on the back of my neck have been standing at attention.

I don't know if others who aren't in my age group are feeling this Universal shift. I haven't asked them--dare not lest they think I'm totally bonkers. And those who are in my age group? Well, I just assume, don't I? It comes with the territory, part of the aging process.

Speaking of aging, I need to speak with the person who sold me my aging kit. Mine's defective. I need a refund. Oh, the problems I've been having with mine lately, I could go on! I have more medical professionals in my life than friends these days!

So what's a poor gay boy to do (pa rum pa pum pum pum)? The only real choice I have is to wait, scared witless, for this Universal shift to take hold. Until then, I will continue to work on getting into my new home before the ticking clock runs out. And with your support, I just may make it in time.

(Please visit the GoFundMe Fundraiser I set up if you can help me get into my new home for the holidays. I need help coming up with the security deposit and the first month's rent. After that, the Section 8 housing choice voucher I received will help me pay the rent. Thanks so much!)