Just before my 30th birthday I began to heavily doubt the direction my life was going. In particular, the direction it had been on for the past three years. It seeemed like I was making similar mistakes I made in a previous long term relationship.
So I broke things off with both my partners: one then the other. A pattern I've repeated twice now. Despite my ideals, I have fostered the creation of close knit polycules.
I was planning to stay in a place that I would need to move away from in a few years (due to state level politics) but it is my home. The flora and fauna here bring me such comfort. Even the dry, spiky and/or scary ones. That was our plan, and that quickly fell apart. Not before me getting some baby chickens.
On my 30th birthday, I still had, fed, watered, and I wish I could have cared for those chickens. In my mind it made sense because I was delusional about the plan: that we made it together, that they were into it, that they wanted to do it. The others didn't think that hard about whether getting the chickens was a mistake. One person saying let's sleep on it and discuss this as a group and weigh the pros and cons would have checked my mania.
I see the situation as a failing primarily on my end. The over dramatic thought over rehoming the chickens would have involved breaking up with with my partners too. This was a caring part of me trying to break through all the self delusion. As it tried to do many times in those last three years of my 20's.