Status Anxiety | 14 January 2012

Since turning 48 last October I’ve begun to obsess about getting old. In 21 months I’ll be 50 and by any definition that’s middle aged. For a man, turning 50 is a bit like turning 40 for a woman. It’s an unwelcome milestone. Adjustments have to be made, humiliations prepared for.

One form this obsession takes is incessantly monitoring myself for signs of ageing. For instance, there are the multiplying symptoms of early onset Alzheimer’s — or, as I prefer to think of them, ‘senior moments’. Sometimes these are quite endearing, such as when I find myself making two cups of tea even though I’m the only person in the house. But most of the time they’re distressing, like leaving the oven on all night. It won’t be long before all my meals have to be prepared by a professional carer.

Then there’s the burgeoning dyspepsia. I don’t mean heartburn — though, God knows, I suffer from that.