Yeah, I’d say that most people are a little screwed up at age 22. It’s sort of a learning age - you’re not a teen anymore, but don’t really have the experience of an older person. You tend to be in adult situations (relationships, work, etc.) but not have a lot of the skills involved in maintaining them well.
…all this as I look back from the lofty age of 30…
Well, maybe a little, but only in ways that I’m still screwed up at 24, and will probably remain screwed up. I don’t remember it as being a particularly screwed-up age.
Twenty-ONE, now, that’s another story. I’m amazed I survived that year.
I was a serious mess at age 22. Now I’m a jocular, devil-may-care mess. But I am relatively wiser than I was. Life just has a way of doing that. When I was 22 though, I wonder how many of my friends were willing to attribute my messed-upness to my age. More likely, they excused it by saying “he’s an asshole.”.
I’m 22, and while I do see that there’s a little bit of messed up in my life, I think that I’m by and large aware of what about me is messed up, which lessens the impact.
Are you kidding? I was so screwed up when I was 22, it’s a freakin’ miracle I made it to 35.
Drugs-Drink-Depression, ah the three vital D’s of young adulthood.
I just turned 22, I feel like I was really screwed up last year and am finally over it and getting it all straight.
I survived raving (lots of ecstacy), feeling bad for people and getting taken advantage of, three bad roommates, thrown out of my apartment with a weeks notice, ran over my girlfriend’s bare foot with the car, someone stole my identity and ran up a $600 phone bill, and had a $880 DMV registration fee for a 1988 honda dropped on me.
Does that mean the worst is still to come? <lol> I thought I got that all out of my system! Whew…
Read The Art of Happiness by the Dalai Lama. There’s piles of them at every major bookstore, and you can get it really cheap at Sam’s club or Costco. It helps, has some good pointers.
25 was the “I’m fed up!!!” age. I finally realized that I didn’t have to take all the crap I’d been taking. (Most of these were self-esteem issues, and how other people will tromp all over you if you let them.) But for that year, I know I was quite obnoxious. I used copious amounts of profanity, and literally did use the term “I’m fed up!” waaaay too frequently.
15 was the age that I realized that life sucked, and that people would tromp all over you. I could go on, but I’m still bitter!
I am 22 and I hit rock bottom right before I turned 19. I had an abusive fiance, had to drop out of college (full scholarship), and leave the state. Now at 22, I have a wonderful BF, a great job and I feel very stable.
I think everyone goes through problems between 18 (becoming a legal adult) and 25 (when most people have learned how to deal with being an adult), but I don’t believe that 22 is THAT specific age for all people.
I can look back on being 22 and say “Thank God! Free At Last!” Seriously, I look back, and the older I get, the more amazed I am I made it this far. [sub]What I was like is another story, however.[/sub]
Yeah, sometimes I’d like to go back in a time machine and hit my younger self with the 2x4 of Instant Wisdom. One or two good whacks and I’d be better off then.
I’m 22, and it seems to me that I have my shit together more than most people my age. Probably because I got through the dumbass years from about 14 to 20. I learned then what it was like to fuck up, decided I didn’t like it all that much, and have since been working my ass off to be a decent human being. So far, so good.
Wow, 22, Boston College, girls, bars, girls, bars and Boston College. Yes, I was definately screwed up at age 22, I didn’t appreciate what I had and what I could lose. I obviously made it past 22, a long time ago, but I still wouldn’t trade the experiences I had. I learned a great deal about life and myself during that year.
I’m 22. I’d have to say I’m a helluva lot better adjusted than I was when I’m 18. It seems like a thousand years have passed since then. Hopefully, I’ll be fully acclimated to adulthood by 25. I’m still socially…um…akward, but things seem to be getting a tad better on that front.
Was that the year I stumbled out of Central Park, half-naked & woozy looking for…
looking for…
Man, the Metropolitan Museum of Art is big. Now, what was I looking for?
Ah, couldn’t have been important.
22, 23…hardly the only fucked-up time in my life, but I was in far worse shape at that age than pretty much anytime before or since. I was the most lost I’ve been.
Compared to that time in my life, my teens were a piece of cake.