Why I hate my birthday…
I really hate birthdays for many reasons, but here are two.
The first reason I hate birthdays is quite a common one. I get huge amounts of anticipatory anxiety that noone will remember or even care. That I will receive no cards, emails, texts, tweets or Facebook messages at all (except from my parents and boyfriend of course but that’s a given). In the days up to my birthday I genuinely feel like Eleanor Rigby, like nobody cares and why would they? I’m not worth the effort. I get this feeling anyway when I’m depressed but it’s magnified around birthday time, regardless of mood.
The second reason is that so far in my life I have spent 2 of my relatively recent birthdays in the psychiatric ward and not only that, I was under constant watch on both occasions. The first birthday I spent in Springfield Hospital I was totally alone. My boyfriend was having trouble dealing with the situation so he didn’t even come and see me. I think that perhaps this horrible day is the reason behind my very big problem with the first reason. The other time I was in the psychiatric hospital on my birthday was also nasty and I felt like crap but at least I got a visit from my boyfriend.
In a nutshell, I find that birthdays remind me of my inherent feeling of distance between myself and others. Like I don’t quite belong in the world.
So this year, against my better judgement, I have agreed to spend the weekend with my parents. Not looking forward to it but I live in hope that my brother will make an appearance and make it worthwhile.
One good thing about my birthday this year is that its 09/10/11 which is actually kind of cool.
Also the fact that I got to put the Portal cake on my blog actually makes me smile a bit.