Life in my 30s has become quite stale. I’m the only one left out of my close friends who doesn’t have any children which is by design. If my only other option outside of my dull and tedious existence is to become a single mother, I’ll keep my cards. They’re not that bad. I consider myself to be “blessed.” Definitely still pretty. No fibroids. Edges still intact. Kind of funny. Optimistic at times. But I do have my moments when I get depressed about thinking what’s next for me. I’ve accomplished all of my goals! Mothers and wives have their kids to work for; to live for. I only have me. And sometimes, I am just not enough to get out of the bed for.
In the technology section of the January/February 2018 edition of The Atlantic, I came across an article written by Bianca Bosker. The title immediately caught my attention: “The App That Reminds You You’re Going to Die.” Dumbest app ever was my initial thought when judging the book by its cover, or the article by its title. Who would want to be reminded that they’re going to die? Who would download this foolishness? Better yet, who would create it… and why? Me… that’s who. After reading the article, I had a better understanding of mindfulness apps in general and an answer to every one of my questions. The article was written so well (click on the link and read it yourself) that I decided to download the app and try it out.
The quotes that the app furnished were not wittingly profound to me but the daily reminders of the fact that I am going to die were striking. Almost offensive. I believe the reminders bothered my subconscious more than anything else. Instead of feeling depressed, I started to get restless. Irritated (Maybe angry?). With myself. When had I stopped dreaming? Why had I become so complacent? Why was I living my life like everyone else when I didn’t have to?
First, I decided to leave Texas. I had sold my home years ago and there was nothing holding me to that particular state; it was just my comfort zone. I let my one-bedroom lease expire and moved my furniture into storage. I had to stay in Arlington for at least two more months since I was working a 7-4, so I decided to live in an Airbnb until my employment contract was up. Most of my friends thought that by living in a random person’s home, I would be raped and murdered but I was willing to take the risk. This WeCroak app had been reminding me that I would die anyways! However, as soon as I met Marsha, the owner of the home, I knew I was in good hands.
The next objective on my list of things-to-do before I died was to travel. Why not? The benefit of choosing not to have children is the ability to get up and do whatever you want, when you want and how you want. Somewhere along the way, I had forgotten that. I applied for my passport and, after not being raped and murdered during my initial Airbnb booking, reserved a spot in Belize for two months – Caye Caulker to be exact. I was terrified. But again, the app kept me encouraged.
Soon after spending a considerable amount of money on my summer travel, I quit my job. This was not on my list of things-to-do, but life always happens. Long story short: I don’t do well working under female supervisors. I can never tolerate their nagging and pettiness for long. I work too hard and I get the job done (proud veteran). Since I had already been stepping out on faith, I knew that it would all work itself out so quitting was more of a relief than anything else. I sold my 60-inch and donated the rest of my belongings that were in storage to a non-profit. I stuffed what I had left of my clothes and shoes (minion house shoes included)—Crown Royal and military records—into my Q3 and hit the road to Alabama. I dropped my crap off at my cousin’s house and started my vacation in Belize earlier than originally planned.
Although I’ve been in the IT field for more than ten years, I never expected an app could be capable of saving my life. Depression is real. Especially with social media reminding us of what we don’t have. This app has not only reminded me of my impending death, but also of my resilient faith. I am enough and if, at any time, life becomes monotonous, I have the authority to make it better.
What’s new with Lovett? “Trying to convince myself that I’m too old to be listening to Lil Uzi Vert.”