I never take the “after” photos, AKA adulthood is the worst hood to be in

From fall of 2023 to fall of 2024 I worked at a non-profit that worked with disadvantaged students in my area. It had the issues that all nonprofits had: expecting you to take on more than you could, and a complete lack of structure in training/guidance with their employees.

The turnover rate when i joined was insane, with most employees that I knew leaving and going elsewhere. I knew that I needed to leave a few months ago, when I was trying to juggle my full time job, the nonprofit as my part time job, and being a full time student. As much as I wish I could have done it, i just had way too many plates spinning- and then, I got into my fucking car accident.

My partner consoled me when I came to the break-down realization that I had to stop school for a period of time- and, when I realized I had to quit my part time job. Because although they had pushed me and thrown me into this work with little to no guidance, I loved my job. I loved the students, and my coworkers and bosses were caring in their own unique ways.

When I was talking to an old employee who used to work there, she said it succinctly: “Bee, you were treated like a scapegoat for every issue they had in their chain of command. It was easier to criticise you because you were the youngest, rather than turn their gaze inward” The nonprofit was deeply familiar to me, because it reminded me of home. Just like at home, there would be times where I was so anxious to go into work I would make myself sick.

That brings me to the title. “Adulthood is the worst hood to be in” was a phrase that one of my coworkers used frequently when I came in talking about how much I struggled trying to figure out how to be a self-sustaining adult at 18. It’s a hilarious phrase and I really have adopted it into my heart.

Being an adult sucks. Growing up I had so many ideas about what sort of adult I was gonna be. My family didn’t create healthy adults, that’s just not something that anyone was taught; so it never happened. But me? No, I was resolved to be healthy, happy, and successful.

Now I’m an adult. And I’m super unhealthy.

FUCK.

Why is it that as soon as you take 5 steps forward you have to take 10 steps back? Progress is never linear, I get that, but I’ve got some fucked up sine or cosine trend going on. Maybe everyone does. To give a little background, here’s what August to December has looked like for me:

A tree fell on my car, then it got wrecked. My poor kitty cat went crazy and started violently attacking everyone and landed us in the E.R. multiple times (he got rehomed to a good family). My roommate ditched us right before rent was due and so now I have to take her to court and pay almost double in rent. Then I ended up in the E.R. several times due to unknown anaphylaxis. Then I had to urgently get my wisdom teeth out because of an infection. As if it doesn’t get better, I’m behind on so many payments I can barely keep track, and worst of all I’ve gained like 20 pounds and none of my clothes fit me the same way. The only silver lining to this all is that my boobs have gotten bigger.

Okay, I’m just being dramatic. The real silver lining is probably the fact that I’m still only 19. I’m young, and I don’t know what I’m doing, but that’s alright. I have so much room for upward growth, and I’ve got the energy and the drive to accomplish it.

But self discipline? Now that… that’s something to consider. To be honest, all I really want to do is lay around in bed, play video games, and mindlessly consume media. I don’t want to do anything productive with my life. When I do something productive, I crave validation of it. I still need that hit of happiness that comes when someone says, “Nice!”.

The downside to being the overachieving only/eldest daughter is that at some point, excellence is the bar that you’ve set, and it’s expected of you. When I scroll through social media I see these influencers and vloggers living such beautiful, composed lives. I see progress videos of folks setting goals, working hard to achieve them.

I’m jealous. Of what they’ve achieved, of how they were able to get there.

As embarrassing as it is to admit, I always take these “before” photos of my life as if I’m going to put a lot of energy towards improving things. But I never take the after photo. I do just enough to make my life liveable, but not enough to mean anything.

Everytime I achieve something, make a positive change, I’m possessed by this urge. Strangers, family, friends. But I don’t want to put the work in to actually create something worthy of praise. I only want to put in the work that allows me to scrape on by.

Despite my family’s failings, they never failed to tell me that I was motivated, to compliment me on my ambition and drive. Maybe introspection is broken, but I can’t see it. If I could be content, I would be. But I don’t want that to be my forever-

I want to be more. I want to be good. I want to be able to look at what I’ve made and be proud of it.

I hope that you could find this rant enjoyable enough to finish it. It’s not much of an article, but hey, it’s one of the first posts I’ve made here.