Offical Quarterlife Crisis
blog by Alexis Jones

I had my first official “quarterlife crisis” last week. In the middle Board meeting, I excused myself, stepped outside, and booked a ticket home to Austin. I flew home approximately 12 hours later and just fell into my mom and dad’s arms as they anxiously awaited my arrival. I could tell they were nervous when I called them in tears and simply said, “I booked a ticket and I’ll be home tomorrow night. Can y’all pick me up from the airport?” You know you have good parents when they hear the distress in your voice and, rather than ask a million questions, they simply replay, “Of course. So happy you’re coming home.”

Now I don’t know what it is for you, your friends, a vacant shack in the middle of nowhere, or the privacy of your bedroom you run to but, for me, it’s the welcoming arms of a huge Texas family and home cooking. Maybe it’s just that I’m exhausted, maybe it’s because I’m just homesick or questioning my priorities, my passion and my purpose. But all I know is, like a little kid, I went running home because whatever it was, I felt like I was buckling under the pressure of adulthood’s responsibilities and expectations.

However, despite my much needed R&R, I came home to the most chaotic, depressing, unexpected  storm possible. It’s like I was trying to avoid a hurricane and fled to an island halfway across the world, only to get hit by a tsunami. The morning I arrived, I found out a dear friend had just passed away. Two hours later I was updated that one of our closest family friends was literally “missing” and that my ex-boyfriend had officially moved on (and in) with his girlfriend. Regardless, the ol’ saying, “When it rains it pours” could not be more appropriate for the past week of my life.

That’s when it occurred to me, in my pity party of one, that while we can plan and perfectly orchestrate our lives, at the end of the day, there are times when we simply have to grab out floaties and hold on for dear life. Since I pride myself on “being the author of my own life” and “dictating life on my terms,” it’s always humbling to find yourself up *%$# creek without a paddle.

For the first time in my life, I had nothing: no answers, no brilliant responses or eloquent explanations. I didn’t know up from down, left from right, nor here nor there. I sat on my couch and cried. I cried for a friend I’ll never see again; I cried for fear of my life’s ambiguity; I cried for finally closing a chapter in my life’s longest love affair; I cried for realizing I can’t control every aspect of my life nor have everything figured our by 26 and then bawled even harder at the thought of just how much I was loved by the Looney Toons I call family.

Then, as soon as it came, it was gone. I sat in silence on my couch and, when the last tear drop had rolled down my face, I realized I had just weathered a huge life storm and I was going to live. That doesn’t mean things were fixed, hearts weren’t still bruised and my problems had miraculously evaporated; it meant, in spite of them, I knew I would be okay.

And sometimes being okay is just enough to keep you going. I was once told, “Don’t waste a good crisis.” It sounded ridiculous at the time but it occurred to me that it’s in the thick of life’s greatest storms that we really learn how to sail our ships and sometimes we have to be fully broken in order to rebuild even stronger. So if you’re headed for one, in the midst of one, or have just survived a good life crisis, welcome to the gang.

My advice for the future: do what you have to do. Run home, hide under the covers, crawl in a hole when the world seems too big and too scary. But after you cry, scream, throw a fit and get everything out, you better get back out there. As I’ve said before, this life is not about avoiding obstacles, heartaches or unpleasant circumstances; it’s about facing them head on, getting beat up and knocked down but always, no matter what, getting back up.

I fly back to LA tomorrow and while my storm has subsided for now, I gladly welcome the next one that tries to throw me off my course because this girl is ten times stronger than the chick she was a week ago and it’s going to take one hell of a storm to slow me down this time.

anxiety, crisis, cry, family, life, quarterlife crisis Hide