Birthday Blues
So for those of you who do not know, I HATE my birthday. It only serves as a reminder that another year has pasted, moments have been lost, time I will never regain, and I can't help but fall into a depression contemplating, how many more birthdays will I have?
I have this stupid assumption that I am past my mid life, I was infected when I was 20 years old, by my first real boyfriend, first real relationship. I hear of people living 20 years maybe a little longer, so every year that passes is a reminder that I am one year closer to the end, and when I look at my life I'm not impressed. I always felt that I would do something special with my life, so thing spectacular, something to be remembered by. I'm sure everyone has that dream, or delusion, whatever you want to call it, but I still can't help but feel as though I am stuck in a limbo between living my life and waiting for the end, or new beginning. If I had my choice, if of course reincarnation exist, I would love to come back as a cat. A well taken care of cat to be more exact, I would love to be one of my cats, treats almost every day, cat toys and towers and tree forts. My owner would have to let me keep my claws, after all declawing a cat is a very cruel thing to do, and aren't they just so cute when they climp towers and hang from the top looking at you like, "look at me, I'm so high" look in their eyes.
So moving on, I've decided to not celebrate this birthday, my 25. I don't see much point, I've had fabulous birthday parties, well one to be exact. I came home and Lon and Keva and filled dozens of balloons with Helium and connected streamers to them that went from our vaulted ceiling to the floor, it was like walking into a forrest of streamers, all of this by surprise mind you. First they took me out to dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant, Porta Bella's, they got the best seat overlooking a beautiful fountain. When we arrived back home they had invited a group of close friends and we had a small Champaine party prior to be escorted to the club to dance the night away. It was my perfect birthday party, one I will never forget, and one I don't think could ever be topped. I'm not sure why, but ever since that year I just haven't felt like celebrating, it was like that was the perfect party, almost like they read my mind and gave me everything I had ever wanted out of my birthday from my entire life.
The other reason is because I feel so guilty celebrating my birthday, like it's not that special of a day and I do not deserve the attention or gifts, I get an overwhelming feeling of guilt everytime I get a present, and yet I get depressed when no one sends a card. I'm fucked up, I realize this, but I can't change who I am, I can only learn to accept and cherish the person within.
Maybe someday I'll celebrate again, but right now I'd rather be alone in a cave on that day. It also doesn't help that my Mother shares my birthday, makes it even more difficult to dissappear because I have to celebrate hers. Maybe I'll come down with a cold or the flu and have an excuse. One can only wish.
I have this stupid assumption that I am past my mid life, I was infected when I was 20 years old, by my first real boyfriend, first real relationship. I hear of people living 20 years maybe a little longer, so every year that passes is a reminder that I am one year closer to the end, and when I look at my life I'm not impressed. I always felt that I would do something special with my life, so thing spectacular, something to be remembered by. I'm sure everyone has that dream, or delusion, whatever you want to call it, but I still can't help but feel as though I am stuck in a limbo between living my life and waiting for the end, or new beginning. If I had my choice, if of course reincarnation exist, I would love to come back as a cat. A well taken care of cat to be more exact, I would love to be one of my cats, treats almost every day, cat toys and towers and tree forts. My owner would have to let me keep my claws, after all declawing a cat is a very cruel thing to do, and aren't they just so cute when they climp towers and hang from the top looking at you like, "look at me, I'm so high" look in their eyes.
So moving on, I've decided to not celebrate this birthday, my 25. I don't see much point, I've had fabulous birthday parties, well one to be exact. I came home and Lon and Keva and filled dozens of balloons with Helium and connected streamers to them that went from our vaulted ceiling to the floor, it was like walking into a forrest of streamers, all of this by surprise mind you. First they took me out to dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant, Porta Bella's, they got the best seat overlooking a beautiful fountain. When we arrived back home they had invited a group of close friends and we had a small Champaine party prior to be escorted to the club to dance the night away. It was my perfect birthday party, one I will never forget, and one I don't think could ever be topped. I'm not sure why, but ever since that year I just haven't felt like celebrating, it was like that was the perfect party, almost like they read my mind and gave me everything I had ever wanted out of my birthday from my entire life.
The other reason is because I feel so guilty celebrating my birthday, like it's not that special of a day and I do not deserve the attention or gifts, I get an overwhelming feeling of guilt everytime I get a present, and yet I get depressed when no one sends a card. I'm fucked up, I realize this, but I can't change who I am, I can only learn to accept and cherish the person within.
Maybe someday I'll celebrate again, but right now I'd rather be alone in a cave on that day. It also doesn't help that my Mother shares my birthday, makes it even more difficult to dissappear because I have to celebrate hers. Maybe I'll come down with a cold or the flu and have an excuse. One can only wish.