My whole life, people have compared me to my uncle. People have mistaken us for each other in old photos. He was always my role model. He died when he was 29 years old. I was around 10 years old. At the time, they called it a heart attack. He was mildly, though certainly not dangerously, overweight at the time, but he was 29 fucking years old. Relatively healthy people don't have heart attacks at 29. Because of his death, I never expected to live past 29 myself, so I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when, around 27 years old, I died for the first time. Yeah, I know... dramatic.
Sorry if you've heard this before...
Honestly, I didn't think much of it when it happened. I was running on a track. I had been averaging 5-10 miles each time I ran. One night, I had run one or two laps before I got stuck behind a group of slow people. I mumbled under my breath, "Fuck this," and sped up to pass them. As I came around the curve in the track, something felt very wrong. I stopped at the stands to collect myself. I put my hands on the railing for some stability. The next thing I knew, I was lying face-down under the stands. My legs were moving, so my first thought was that I must still be running. My second thought was, "Oh shit, I'm not breathing. I should breathe." That first breath was full of dirt and who-knows-what from under the stands. So I rolled out, stumbled over to my truck, and laid down in the back. The next day, I went to work with scratches on my arms and chin, and a chipped tooth. Being young and dumb (and too scared to do anything about it), I ignored it. I thought it must have been dehydration/heat related.
A few years later, I was diagnosed with Brugada Syndrome (once called Nightmare Death Syndrome and the inspiration behind the "Nightmare on Elm Street" series), which is a condition that causes the heart to go into a lethal rhythm, or Sudden Cardiac Arrest (SCA). Fast forward to now (past another 6 deaths), I don't even know which birthday is most worthy of celebration. Other people in the SCA survivor community refer to each revival as a re-birthday. Most of them seem to only have one SCA, so they celebrate a single re-birthday. I've died 7 times. I don't remember the dates. I guess I've never taken any of them seriously enough to commit something like that to memory. As I said, I wasn't supposed to live past 29. I'm almost bitter that I've survived this many times, but also grateful. I feel like I have more to do before I can leave.
So there's that.
On a sillier note, here's a list of meaningful ages. Of course, this is US-based. If you have any funny ages to add, especially non-US, please comment!
13: you're officially a teenager!
14-16 (in the US and depending on which state): you can drive!
18: you're supposedly an adult, you can vote, and you can join the military
21: no wait, NOW you're an adult, because you can (legally) drink
25: quarter of a century. also, auto insurance break!
30: oh g-d, no... cannot deny adult status
36: you can legally date someone half your own age, but you're probably kind of a creeper if you do. (not really, that's ageist)
40: oh g-d, no... over the hill
42: you can legally drink with someone half your age. alternatively (which is my case), you can legally drink twice as much?
50: half a century
65: senior citizen discount!
after that... septuagenarian, octogenarian, nonagenarian, and the big 100. a full century.