Life-crisis? Bring it on!

'It's happened' I declared, to no one in particular. 'My mid-life crisis has set in early.'

Now, this premature onset would have been deemed to be a timely event, were our coffins still been nailed shut at the age of 50, give or take a few years. But humans these days, through the right combination of white coats, pills, the right genetic makeup or just dogged determination,do increasingly live to blow out their 100th birthday candle. And so I concluded, that at the age of 26, this latest development was indeed precocious in nature.

'How else do I explain how I've been feeling lately?' I later moaned to a reluctant audience. ' Why do I have this maddening urge to reinvent myself, this restlessness to be seen and noticed, this constant desire for change?!!'

' Hormones?' my mother suggested helpfully.

'Ants in your pants?' said my wisdom- encrusted brother.

' Last week's left overs' my husband nodded firmly, leaving no further room for discussion.

Leave it to family to make light of a potentially catastrophic and fatal ( I could dehydrate from all those tears I've been shedding could'nt I? ) emotional event.

And so I found myself doing some research, just to confirm my suspicions.

'A midlife crisis' Wikepedia tells me, 'is an emotional state of anxiety and doubt, where people experience a strong desire to make changes in their lives'.

Why, they practically took the words right out of my mouth! I gleamed, delighted that I had made the right diagnosis all along.

I then proceeded to try and match the information in the article to my own list of signs and symptoms, determined to further prove that I had hit the nail hard on the head.

' Certain characteristics displayed by individuals experiencing a midlife crisis, include but are not limited to the following:

-search of an undefined goal or dream' - Which explains why I had been contemplating whether I wanted to write a Pulitzer winning book, or fulfil my childhood desire of swinging like a mad monkey from a trapeze.

- feelings of profound depression or anger'- Six boxes of tissues in three days and a broken mirror. Need I say more?

- 'acquiring of unusual or expensive items items of clothing, jewelry, cars etc.' - The perfect excuse, ahem, explanation for those gorgeous £100 boots I bought the other day (they called out to me, seriously).

- 'a deep sense of remorse for goals not achieved'- All those parties I never went to, the boys I never kissed, the pounds I never lost- they plague me everyday. Sigh.

- 'paying extra attention to physical appearance'- My appointments with 'Ugly Duckling no more Ltd.- Cosmetic gurus extraordinaire! '- is self-explanatory.

- 'an underlying desire to initiate new sexual partnerships'-* Blush*- no comment.

Right, so now that I have ascertained that I am indeed suffering,un desevedly so, I then ponder over how I can relieve myself of this quandary. Why, you did'nt think I'd want to be a tearful, boot wearing, tummy-tucked, crisis endurer for ever did you?

Wike came to the rescue again. ' Sufferers should start looking inwards, to try and understand themselves better', it preached. 'Reflect on your lives regularly. Set new goals and develop new hobbies. Take care of your mental health. Try and live each day to the fullest'.

Ah. Yes. Five weeks down the line and peace has once again restored itself to its rightful place in my life. Gone is the negative chi; instead, good karma reigns. Life is once again beautiful.

And what, might you ask, has proved to be the cure to my once seemingly intractable phase of emotional suffering?

Weekly visits to a shrink (who has the softest couch in the world), a pink tutu ( ballet can be a beautiful thing ), meditation (sometimes wearing the tutu), or a bottle of Prozac. I honestly can't decide which.