I am not old, I'm not young, although I could be considered either depending on who I'm talking to. I am not by any means a man though, I have lived a fairly complicated life since I spread my wings and flew from the nest. It hasn't been bad, it has been full of mountains to clamber up, but seas to sail peacefully also. I have a fair few problems with myself, I may joke about it but I am far from perfect. One of my biggest problems is that I am not good at making decisions. I usually like to think I'm pretty smart and usually I am but there are times when I realise exactly how immature a nearly-twenty-five year old can be.
Part of the reason that I struggle with making decisions is because I don't like to say no to people. Not just no, but anything of a negative connotation. I just like to make people happy and smile and if it's not going to hurt me then why should I say no? It's very hard to do something as simple as doing what's best for you if that's not something you've ever done before. That is something I need to address and it's a very tenuous link to the actual subject of this post.
These thoughts come from a situation I find myself in regarding my bank account and the amount of stress I went through to try and sort it out. I have not been living in the place where my bank account is registered for some time now and as stupid as it may be I never thought about changing the address because 1. I am only lodging with my friend at the moment and it was easier for him that it is as though I don't actually live here 2. I use paperless banking so I do not have any statements sent to me and my bank never needs to send me any letters.
Ironically this all came to bite me in the ass on payday. I actually have two accounts but the one that my wages go into is rarely used, anyway I took went to the cash point and tried to withdraw money and the message said something about the issuer not authorising the transaction. My initial thought was that I had not been paid so that was the first thing I checked and sure enough in the blinding brightness of my monitor at work were numbers proving that I had indeed been paid. So I knew I had to go into the bank and see what was up.
I was sweating at the potential problems I could be in because as I mentioned, I do not live at the address my account is registered to. I also have no proof that I live where I do now because technically I don't live there. My only photo ID has another address on it altogether because I never needed to change that either (my provisional drivers licence - I couldn't afford a car even if I passed my test so I thought why bother). I was breathing heavy and panicking because I couldn't see a problem with my account but how would I fix it if there was one?
It transpires that a new debit card had been sent to me at my old address and that they would have to send a new one as the type of card I tried to use has been cancelled due to a card update. As the woman on the desk said these words she removed my card from the reader and snapped it telling me my new one would be with me in five working days. As I had to confirm my address and stuff she didn't ask me any questions and ordered a new one anyway. I must have looked outwardly distraught because obviously I was never going to receive this card either. I didn't know how to backtrack and explain my situation so I smiled and left walked around the corner and sat next to my friend.
Ninety nine out of a hundred times you will see me, you would see a beaming confident person because usually that's just me. This was one of the other times, my brain stopped working, I could feel my heart pounding with the increased panic that seemed to be coursing through every vein and artery in my body. While I was struggling through this internally I was explaining what had just happened to my friend. He told me what I knew I had to do, which of course was to go back in and tell them about the situation I am in and why I hadn't changed my address.
I had got to do this, and it shouldn't be a difficult thing to do, but trust me, I was almost paralysed with fear. For about five minutes I sat there idly playing with the strap on my gym bag. It's all I could do because all the other workings of my brain were going into the necessary mental preparation I needed to go back in and talk to that woman again. Except when I managed to stand up and make it back into the bank, because there was a queue another woman came to help me and she took me into an office. I must have looked ghostly, there was no blood in my face, I new this because it was filling up in my heart which I was sure was about to explode. The gym bag over my shoulder seemed to be filled with lead and every single step I took seemed harder. This was it, they were going to close my account and I was going to be broke. As the woman sat down at the computer, I realised she had a kind face but she had a stern look in her eyes that only got sterner as I explained my current living situation and the predicament I was in.
No more than three minutes later she had sent the change of address form through their systems and told me it would be five working days to be changed and I would need to come back in then and re-order my new card. Again I smiled, said thank you picked up my gym bag which all of a sudden felt lighter than air, and walked back around the corner to my friend. I let out an audible sigh of relief but believe me I was still stressed.
I know that the whole thing was a big nothing really and it shouldn't have affected me as much as it did, and I hope the way I've written it sort of purveys the sense of fear I was getting. I have never fully grown up. I can do things for myself, I'm not a child but for me things like that are the scariest things in the world. I have the same fear when it comes to making phone calls, even to people I know, because I have a fear of the unknown. Situations that are out of my control and out of the sanctuary of the norm like work or at home and I am lost. All of those senses go wild and I even get a small rush of adrenaline.
Every time I have to do something that almost every person that reads this will think to be melancholy, I grow up a little bit more. I have less worries and stress about the things that you have to do and I take another step at being grown up and being able to make the right decisions and not worry about saying no to people if that's what needs to be said. Being an adult just means that you are old enough to be treated so in the eyes of the law and the laws of our country. Being grown up means you are responsible.
I am not old, I'm not young, but I still have a lot of growing up to do.
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