How Many Midlife Crises Have You Crossed Already?

When a midlife crisis arrives, we are the least prepared for its appearance. Usually, we are well-sorted in our everyday existence, everything is palatable in the professional and personal arena, we are surrounded by people and experiences that give us a sense of external satisfaction. All pieces of the puzzle are in place. Yet, the puzzle doesn’t click as a full image. Sounds familiar?

I was listening to an expert talk between two Russian psychologists yesterday about symptoms, challenges, tools, and conditions of the midlife crises. We often think that they happen once or twice in a lifetime. In reality, they come every 7–9 years, starting in the late twenties.

A midlife crisis happens in the gap between the overvaluing of one side of life and undervaluing another. It can be recognized in a sense of a “ceiling” or a “wall” of existing reality without a visible exit. It can last a long time, and, when unrecognize, somatizes in the body in the form of the disease. Often, people try to run away from it and glaze over the inconvenience, only to find themselves in a double-crisis on the next round. Having a loving family, a psychologist-on-hand, success, or a fulfilling profession doesn’t save you from the midlife crisis. It is merely a process of the development of a growing and living human being.

My first midlife crisis hit when I was 23–24 (a bit too early, by the expert standards). I had a husband, a kid, a profession, a home, a full bank account, a set of loving relatives and friends, and all basics of the American dream. Everything was there. My soul was missing.

My second midlife crisis hit when I was 29–30. Everything was there. My purpose and mission were missing.

I am turning 37 years old in 6 weeks. I am crossing the threshold of another midlife crisis. Everything is there, including the soul and the purpose. My joy is missing.

The midlife crisis should not be tolerated, as a permanent state. In fact, allowing the crises to dwell for a prolonged period makes it toxic to an individual. The midlife crisis is meant as a tunnel to the next level and is only useful and meaningful when it is being crossed and exited on the other side.

During my midlife crises, I stop in tracks and reassess every little and big thing, feeling, or thought in my current life. Earlier on, the external event hit me over the head hard enough to make me stop. Otherwise, I kept on running because I was a survivor and a fighter. We tend to avoid the pain until it’s about to kill us. With age and experience, I learned to recognize the symptoms and seek the cure before the disease. I question my existence fully, unremarkably, with the diligence of the accountant, a rage of the wounded animal, and a distraught observation of mountain sage. I ask myself, “If I die tomorrow, what would I do differently today?” When the answer is “nothing”, I know I have arrived. I often feel sadness mixed with a sense of completion and a hint of pride. I can smell the crisis creeping in on me.

Then, I allow a part of myself to die. I pause and mourn it. Then I ask myself, “If not now, then when?” Hope and determination reemerge days or months later, followed by a long journey to the next destination. In the meantime, I allow myself to transition between the levels in the limbo mood, blinded and binded.

Midlife crises are painful for an individual and his environment. They affect the emotional, mental, and physical states of the loved ones, the outcomes on the professional level, the sense of self-confidence and self-worth on the individual levels. We all have different coping mechanisms to go through them. Some don’t make it on the other side. Some make it out again and again.

You decide for yourself. If not now, then when?