Things We're Too Ashamed to Admit
When your Google search history reveals your soul
Tender Tuesday confession: I cried at Fleetwood Mac's "Landslide" this morning, and I don't even know why. Well, that's a lie. I know exactly why. It's because I'm 46, having what I can only describe as a second life crisis, my first one, ‘the quarter life crisis,’ being at 24, and apparently Stevie Nicks singing about getting older hits different when you're actively falling apart.
Then I made the mistake of Googling "second life crisis at 46" and fell down the most spectacular rabbit hole of panic research that somehow ended with me investigating whether my cat could get a job.
This is my life now. And honestly? I'm betting it's yours too.
The Google Spiral of Shame
It started innocently enough. One little search: "second life crisis at 46." But Google is a gateway drug to existential panic, and before I knew it, I was deep in the research hole.
The progression went something like this:
"Second life crisis at 46" (reasonable start)
"Best careers for people over 45" (still logical)
"How to make money fast when you have no skills" (getting desperate)
"How to get all my social security back now that they’re threatening to take it away?" (full panic mode)
"How to grow food in small spaces" (prepper mentality activated)
"What to eat during economic collapse" (because why not go full apocalypse)
"Can cats get jobs" (rock bottom has been reached)
"Do cats qualify for emotional support animal certification" (if you can't beat 'em, monetize 'em)
Three hours later, I'm watching YouTube videos about tiny house living and seriously considering whether Chunk could contribute to the household income. She's very photogenic and has excellent nap skills - surely that's marketable?
The Things We Don't Say Out Loud
But here's what really happened this morning, and what I'm betting happens to you too: I started having all those thoughts we're supposed to keep to ourselves. The ones that make us feel like we're the only ones drowning while everyone else is swimming in perfectly organized lanes.
So let's just fucking say them:
I Google "symptoms of a panic attack" more than I care to admit. Sometimes it's 2 AM, sometimes it's Tuesday afternoon. The internet never judges my mental health check-ins.
I sometimes cry in grocery stores for absolutely no reason. Last week it was the cereal aisle. This week it was looking at the price of avocados. Both valid reasons, honestly.
I pretend I'm busy when really I'm just scared to try. "Oh, I can't start that project today, I have so much to do!" [Proceeds to reorganize junk drawer for the third time this month]
I feel like everyone else got a manual for adulting, and I missed that day. Seriously, where was I when they handed out the instructions for oil changes, retirement planning, and knowing when a watermelon is ripe?
I've eaten fried rice three times in the last 36 hours. And it was good fried rice, so I'm not even sorry.
The Universal Truth About Falling Apart
Here's what I realized somewhere between researching cat employment and wondering if I could survive on dandelions: we're all walking around pretending we have our shit together when really we're all just one "Landslide" away from a complete emotional unraveling.
We're all secretly Googling "how to survive on grass when WWIII breaks out" and wondering if our pets could contribute to the household budget. We're all having second life crises and third career changes and wondering what the hell we're supposed to do with the rest of our lives.
The shame isn't in having these thoughts. The shame is in thinking we're the only ones having them.
The Second Life Crisis is Real
Let's talk about this "second life crisis" thing, because I think I accidentally named something real. It's not a midlife crisis - that's for people who buy sports cars and date wildly inappropriate people (although…hmmm - they’re both fun). This is different.
A second life crisis is what happens when your first life stops working and you realize you have to build an entirely new one from scratch. It's for those of us who thought we had it figured out and then life said, "Plot twist, bitch!"
It's for cancer survivors starting over. For people whose industries got disrupted. For anyone who looked around at 40-something and realized they were living someone else's definition of success.
It's the crisis that comes with having enough life experience to know what you don't want, but not enough clarity to know what you do want.
The Fleetwood Mac Factor
And "Landslide"? That song is basically the anthem of the second life crisis. Stevie Nicks wrote it when she was 27, but it hits differently when you're 46 and actually understand what she meant about time making you bolder and children getting older.
When you're rebuilding your life in real time, every line becomes personal: "I've been afraid of changing, 'cause I built my life around you." Except in this case, "you" is your old career, your old identity, your old certainties.
No wonder I cried. The woman was singing my autobiography.
Today's Brutal Honesty
Crumpled Ink Day 16, June 24th, 2025: Today, I choose brutal honesty over comfortable lies.
Because comfortable lies are what got us here in the first place. "Everything is fine," "I have it all figured out," "I'm just going through a phase."
Fuck that. Everything is not fine. I don't have it figured out. And this isn't a phase - this is a complete life renovation.
The Questions for You
Now it's your turn to get brutally honest:
What made you cry unexpectedly recently? Was it a song, a commercial, the price of groceries, or just Tuesday being particularly Tuesday-ish?
What Google rabbit hole have you fallen down? Have you researched whether your houseplants could qualify for tax deductions? Whether your skills are transferable to the apocalypse economy?
What's the thing you're too ashamed to admit out loud? The thought that keeps you up at night, the Google search you delete from your history, the fear you can't voice to anyone?
The Permission You Didn't Know You Needed
Tender Tuesday reminder: Your weird thoughts are normal. Your panic Googling is valid. Your unexpected crying is human. And your second life crisis is probably exactly what you need to build something better than what you had before.
We're all just making it up as we go along, and the people who seem to have it together are just better at hiding their Google search history.
So cry at Fleetwood Mac. Research cat employment. Wonder if you could live off dandelions. Feel all the feelings and Google all the questions and remember that being human is messy and beautiful and absolutely nothing like the manual none of us ever received.
You're not alone in whatever weird spiral you're in. We're all here, Googling our way through uncertainty and crying at classic rock, together.
Tomorrow We Experiment
But today? Today, we just admitted we're all beautifully, messily human.
And honestly? That feels like enough.
