Recent research has found that the age at which you’re most likely to descend into a screaming, red-faced quarter-life crisis is 26 years and nine months, which is altogether rather young, isn’t it? Scary, to already be having an actual ‘crisis’ at that age - people normally save that kind of stuff until they’re about 50, right?
Ha! No, obviously not! We’re always having crises, all the time, every year - it’s just that some are bigger and maybe a bit more important (or louder) than the others. They’re certainly all pretty vital in their own way, and surely a common threat in all of our lives, for our time on this earth is not plain sailing - the machinations of this planet will make sure that you’re never too happy for too long, that’s a guarantee. Contentment is a pipe-dream; anxious hair-pulling a reality. Deal with the proverbial ‘it’.
As such, to share the pain, I felt it essential to list every single crisis that will befall you in each of your precious years. Let us revel in the suffering together:
Age 1: The “Literally what the hell is that and oh god what on earth and that thing is massive and why is there air coming out of every hole in my body” crisis
Age 2: The “I do not have complete control over my body and it is worrying me, will I ever be able to walk properly like all the big giants” crisis
Age 3: The “Is everyone genuinely laughing at the jokes I have made up or is it all fake, is everything fake” crisis
Age 4: The “Everything is absolutely great at the moment, like, really really great and I feel that there must be something just around the corner that is going to come along and ruin this blissful status quo” crisis
Age 5: The “Oh it’s this, this is what ruins everything, my First Day Of School” crisis
Age 6: The “I told you if you did it again I would have to call your parents and now I am, also your name’s going in The Green Book” crisis
Age 7: The “Exams already? Actual exams already? I am seven for fuck’s sake” crisis
Age 8: The “I still have not done a poo in the school toilets yet because of all the germs and holding it in all day is going to cause me physical problems in old age” crisis
Age 9: The “This Sports Day is supposed to be fun but the immense pressure to win all my events is becoming too much to bear, is this a good indicator of what life has in store for me, is everything just one big giant competition” crisis
Age 10: The “Oh exams again? You do realise I am still a child? And I’m also starting a new school, a big boy school for big boys? I cannot cope with this unfathomable pressure on my young, frail shell” crisis
Age 11: The “My arms are definitely too long for all my sleeves and I look like Lurch from The Addams Family, it is not a good look, not even with a skateboard” crisis
Age 12: The “Oh actually I thought this school disco would be a laugh but actually it’s a segregated wasteland of rejection” crisis
Age 13: The “Boners boners everywhere” crisis
Age 14: The “My skin is actually disgusting and nobody will ever fancy me with these pulsing nodules of slime all over my face, my actual face, the most visible part of my body, wow” crisis
Age 15: The “GCSEs are here now and my life is over for half a year, if only I knew that they didn’t really matter a fucking jot in the long run” crisis
Age 16: The “AS Levels don’t really matter either but they’re still extremely stressful especially when added to the fact that I am still very obviously a massive virgin” crisis
Age 17: The “I think A-Levels actually do matter if I want to get into uni, so I should really try hard on these but also I can sneak into pubs now, so” crisis
Age 18: The “I was sick on my first night at uni and now everyone 100% thinks I’m an arsehole, will I ever shake off this reputation, I doubt I will, even into my thirties” crisis
Age 19: The “Oh dear I have picked the wrong course haven’t I, but as I will come to learn, it is too late” crisis
Age 20: The “I am only eating pasta, that’s it, just pasta, sometimes without even sauce, I am finding it hard to breathe, I should join a gym” crisis
Age 21: The “I spent £250 on a gym membership this time last year and have been only once, what an abhorrent waste of money, I am a fraud, a fraud with a heart encased in thick layer of brown fat, I am dying” crisis
Age 22: The “Will everyone discover that I am a fake soon, that I don’t actually like good things, that I don’t understand politics, that I couldn’t point to over half the countries in the world on a map, that I don’t know what most words that I use actually mean” crisis
Age 23: The “I am fresh out of uni and I can look you dead in the eye and tell you I have no idea what I’m fucking doing” crisis
Age 24: The “Oh, rent is a thing, is it? I have to pay to live somewhere, do I? Ouch, this hurts, why does my neck feel so tight” crisis
Age 25: The “I still have not done a poo in the office toilets yet because of all the germs and holding it in all day is going to cause physical problems in old age” crisis
Age 26: QUARTER-LIFE CRISIS
Age 27: The “I should have gone travelling, oh well too late now I guess, besides I’m earning an OK wedge and that’s all that really matters doesn’t it? Happiness is certainly not a factor I should be taking into account no sireeeeeee bob” crisis
Age 28: The “Sweet, all my friends are way more successful than me and they will be forever unless I invent something, better invent something” crisis
Age 29: The “I have one year left of my twenties and I have nothing to show for it” crisis
Age 30: The “I AM ACTUALLY 30” crisis
Age 31: The “I AM ACTUALLY 31 AND THAT IS SOMEHOW TWICE AS WORSE AS BEING 30” crisis
Age 32: The “Uh oh, I think I’m having a child and I have even less idea what I’m doing than when I was 23, I have somehow devolved” crisis
Age 33: The “I definitely shouldn’t have got blackout drunk on Friday and fallen asleep with kebab all down my front on the night tube because I am no longer 18, also I found a grey hair” crisis
Age 34: The “I SQUANDERED MY TWENTIES DIDN’T I AND NOW I CAN’T GO BACK” crisis
Age 35: The “Am I too old to go to clubs now, does everyone think I’m a dad” crisis
Age 36: The “Do I or do I not get a tattoo, I feel like I should really get a tattoo” crisis
Age 37: The “Why oh why did I get a massive tribal tattoo on my chest, oh the aching regret, the pain, the shame” crisis
Age 38: The “So that invention I came up with when I was 28 never came to fruition and I wasted ten years developing it, I guess wristwatches for dogs have no place in the market” crisis
Age 39: The “I have one year left of my thirties and all I have to show for it is a cat” crisis
Age 40: The “I AM ACTUALLY 40” crisis
Age 41: The “I AM ACTUALLY 41 AND THAT IS SOMEHOW TWICE AS WORSE AS BEING 40” crisis
Age 42: The “I’ve just realised that this t-shirt I’ve been wearing all day, was bought when I was 24, I should not be wearing this, OH GOD actually I haven’t bought anything new in at least seven years, I dress like a child” crisis
Age 43: The “My son is a dickhead, get him away from me” crisis
Age 44: The “Oh no! We’re having another child” crisis
Age 45: The “I am only eating chips, that’s it, just chips, sometimes without even sauce, I am finding it hard to breathe, I should join a gym” crisis
Age 46: The “I spent £250 on a gym membership this time last year and have been only once, what an abhorrent waste of money, I am a fraud, a fraud with a heart encased in thick layer of brown fat, I am dying, again” crisis
Age 47: The “I thought my hairline would survive, I really did, I’m surprised it got this far if I’m honest” crisis
Age 48: The “Ten years ago to this day I got that fucking tattoo and it’s ruined my life, genuinely” crisis
Age 49: The “Shouldn’t I have had a mid-life crisis by now? Why haven’t I had a mid-life crisis? What is wrong with me” crisis
Age 50: MID-LIFE crisis
Age 51: The “Let’s really stretch out this MID-LIFE crisis, make it really obvious to everyone that I am having one, better quickly buy something really expensive and stupid” crisis
Age 52: The “Yeah, I certainly cannot afford this giant quad bike that I’ve just bought, why did I buy this, I don’t even have anywhere to drive it” crisis
Age 53: The “I found somewhere to drive the quad bike, but fell off and broke my ankle, I now can’t walk for sixth months, great” crisis
Age 54: The “I have a written-off, unsellable quad bike in my garage and I hate it” crisis
Age 55: The “Bought a jet-ski instead and smacked my back on the side of the jetty, hospital again” crisis
Age 56: The “This toupée was a mistake” crisis
Age 57: The “I’ve just been told that standing legs apart, with just my thumbs in my pockets is not a good look, but I’ve been doing it really aggressively for seven years” crisis
Age 58: The “I might start painting, actually, fruit, mainly” crisis
Age 59: The “Oh the garden is looking a bit funky, better pour something on it” crisis
Age 60: The “It turns out that 60 isn’t the new 20, and I think my earlobes are getting bigger” crisis
Age 61: The “More space for earrings though, shame one of the holes has gone septic” crisis
Age 62: The “I am going to dash this cocking PC through the window in a minute because it makes no sense to me and I truly despise it” crisis
Age 63: The “I urgently need to restore an old car immediately” crisis
Age 64: The “I am currently waging a one-man-war on the squirrel that lives in my back garden and I’d appreciate it if you butt out” crisis
Age 65: The “All that holding in of poos has had ramifications, hasn’t it” crisis
Age 66: The “Hmmmm, this is my neck now is it” crisis
Age 67: The “No boners boners anywhere” crisis
Age 68: The “WHO THE FUCK IS THAT AT THE DOOR” crisis
Age 69: The “What’s a fidget spinner, I don’t know what all these things are, what’s a meme” crisis
Age 70: The “Actually, you know what, I’m pretty content now, might just relax in all honesty, fuck the haters, let’s go sailing” non-crisis
(Images: iStock/Rex)
