Crises don’t only happen in midlife – they are constant

I know that there’s more to a midlife crisis than mocking people trying to hang on to their youth. Occurring typically between ages 40 and 65 and affecting between ten and 20 per cent of adults, the condition, if I can call it that, is triggered by an awareness of ageing and mortality, prompting people to reevaluate their choices, achievements and missed opportunities.

It can affect people’s mental health, with sufferers experiencing anxiety and depression. But surely this midlife unrest is something that can affect people of any age? Crises which force us to question what we are doing, why we are doing it and what the future holds not only surface in midlife – they are with us throughout life.

I was interested to read that Gen Z – the 18 to 24 age group who nowadays seem to be at the forefront of every consumer research project – are experiencing quarter-life crises; worrying about studying, jobs, housing and other aspects of their young lives.

Almost half are going through this, according to the research led by the University of Greenwich, involving 2, 247 young people from eight countries including the UK.

I’ve been there. In my late teens I had a massive quarter-life crisis. Starting a one-year course in journalism, I couldn’t help but think I’d done the wrong thing and should have gone to university, as many of my friends had done. They seemed to be having great fun and I couldn’t help thinking I was missing out.

And then there was the boyfriend I’d met at school – we had discussed staying at home and finding jobs to see how things panned out. Decisions, decisions, stress, stress.

The choice I made, bizarrely, to stay at home and find work, turned out to be the wrong one, and it was a fretful two years before I made the right decision – which I have never regretted – to go to university.

As I hit midlife, with a husband and two young children added to the mix, I definitely suffered from a few Shirley Valentine moments. After everyone had gone to bed I would clear the toys off the sofa and watch Sex and the City, thinking ‘that’s the life I should be having’, although I must add the envy was more about the city than the sex.

Few things bring you down to earth faster than being stuck at home with small kids. During this period in our lives my husband would happily have ridden off into the sunset on a Harley- Davidson. In the end, no motorbike appeared on the drive and the crisis passed over.

When I told my colleague Emma what I was writing about she said: “Life itself is a crisis punctuated by some nice moments, which are what get you through.”

It’s true. Life is a series of crises, which start as early as your teens and, unless you lead a charmed life, never stop. And we don’t only reinvent ourselves in midlife, we do at various stages; as a student, for example, I suddenly opted to dress in black, join CND and become a vegetarian,

In later life, the death of parents and, sometimes, friends, throws your own mortality into sharp relief. There’s plenty of rumination and not a lot we can do to change things, although I read recently that two-thirds of over-60s still harbour ambitions of making their mark. I’m not one of them – I’m too tired to head off on an Eat Pray Love-style journey, besides I’d hate the food.

My husband hasn’t dyed his hair or joined a gym. He stays connected to his youth listening to punk CDs as he cooks our evening meals.

So, for now, there are no later-life crises bubbling up in our home. I don’t, however, rule them out, because you really never know, do you?