Happy Birthday

To me.

Today I'm 27 years of age. Or, at least I will be at 22:21 PM tonight. To think that it has been 27 years since they forced me out into the world on a cold winter's eve at Selfors hospital. I nearly killed my mom upon arrival though, along with myself. Hours upon hours of labour, and she lost 3 liters of blood, before they finally got me out of her. I never wanted to be a part of this world, even from the very beginning. Me in a nutshell! And of course, being the drama queen that I am, I had to make a dramatic entrance.

Anyway, today is my day. I've celebrated it by going out with my closest friends the day before (so I'm hung over like hell today, which is totally worth it). and I had an amazing time! Today, my mum served coffee to my closest family, and my grandma baked me a cheesecake. Got some amazing gifts, and warm hugs, and many good and comforting words. It's been good.

Which is a huge thing for me.

For as long as I can remember, I've struggled with a rather massive birthday anxiety. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure as to why I've had it. Bad childhood memories? Can't say for sure, since I can't really remember any of my birthdays at all before I turned 18. Like most of my childhood, it's just gone. I do know I've got some Peter Pan issues every now and then, when I honestly don't want to grow older; I want to stay a child forever, so that can be a huge part of this anxiety of mine. Growing older scares me, for some reason. Maybe I'm just afraid that I'll grow too old too fast, and miss out on things I don't want to miss out on. I don't know. But it's been a rather serious issue for me for as long as I can remember.

So, every single year, when my birthday is coming up, I freak out. Hell, I even start freaking out a month before, and then spend that entire month freaking out even more. During my worst periods, I've had serious mental breakdowns because of it. Like last year. Turned out to be one of my worst birthdays ever, and I'd do anything to just forget about it. Most of it was my own fault, of course.

I was living with my ex at the time, and she was well aware of my birthday anxieties. And in that period, I wasn't doing so well mentally on a general basis, so my birthday coming up just made it all worse. Anyway, the day before, my ex wanted to invite some of her friends over. Now, I had told her earlier that I didn't feel so good that day, but since it was her apartment and her friends, I didn't really feel like I could say no. I was only a guest after all. But, I should've had the brains to at least go back to my own place for the evening. Or she could've told me to go there, especially when I told her I didn't want to be around when she had her guests over. But, idiotically enough, I stayed there, and just hid out in her other livingroom when they came. I really didn't feel like having people around me a t all. So, when they all came and asked me to please join them, several times, I felt the pressure build up, and even though I mostly just wanted to crawl into a hole and die, I caved and came to spend time with them. In the end, it turned out pretty ugly. They decided they wanted to go out, and I was mad at myself for feeling like shit, and a bit sad that they wanted to leave, so I had a bad reaction to it, and just hid out in the other livingroom again. And I had a breakdown, where everything just turned itself inside out inside my head. Those breakdowns... They really are the worst. And right there and then, all I wanted was to die. Because, sitting inside your own head, and feeling that you're slowly turning insane, and you're fully aware of it, is without a doubt the worst thing I have ever experienced. And I'd rather die, then feel that way. So yes, I wanted to die. Intensely. And when my ex came and asked what was wrong, drunk, I told her to kill me. Which, of course, made her break down completely and lock herself up in the bathroom.
I still feel bad about that. No matter how insane I was at that moment, I should never have asked such a thing of her. Especially not when she was drunk. I never meant to hurt her like that. Yes, I was completely out of it and not fully aware of what I was saying or doing (I found out later I had managed to scratch myself pretty badly and had been bleeding without being aware of it), but that is no excuse. She shouldn't have to suffer for my insanity. But, thanks to one of her guests, who was amazing, she managed to force me back into control of my head again so I could force myself to pull myself together to help my ex. It took everything I had, but I had no choice. I had to snap out of it, for her sake. Things got better, and we ended up going out. I felt miserable the whole time, but hid it and acted like nothing so I wouldn't worry them any further.
But the next day, my ex were feeling anything but great. She was crying, and she couldn't remember the night before, and was generally completely out of it, so she ended up leaving to spend the rest of that weekend at her mother's place. I don't blame her; she had a rough time the night before, and her best defence against bad things is running away from them. It's what she does. But it felt horrible, being left to spend my birthday all alone, and not even in my own home. I spent the entire day crying, cleaning her apartment, and packing my things. The next day, I moved back home, to leave her to herself and not be a bother to her anymore.

It may not seem so bad, but to me that was one of the worst experiences I've ever had. I've struggled with my birthday anxiety for years, and then I have an absolutely horrible birthday to make it even worse. I spent several days after it, just wishing I was dead. I hated myself, and everything in and around me. And I hated my head more than ever. And no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to put it behind me. It still hurts.

So, this is why having a good birthday means so much to me! It tells me that I can manage to break this "curse" of mine, and maybe learn to look forward to my birthdays. And enjoy them! Because, in the past, no matter how good the birthdays were, I never truly enjoyed them. The dread, and the anxiety, was like a claw around me, every single second. And I wish to break free of that claw, and be rid of it, forever. This birthday turned out to be amazing, and I didn't feel that claw suffocating me for once, so I have taken a step forward, in the right direction. In time, I'll be alright. In time, I'll be able to love having my birthday.