I hate ’em

I’m talking about birthdays.

Yesterday was my 32nd birthday.  I’ve spent the last couple days trying to deny that October 20th even exists on the calender.   I sat there thinking how much I wish I had never been born.  And how many times I heard a parental unit say that they wished I had never been born.  Or I was a mistake.  Or whatever.

I really did want to have a good birthday.  I asked the other foreign teachers if they wanted to go out to dinner Friday night.  And we did.  We went to Outback for dinner and then a nice bar afterwards for drinks.  Dinner was OK.  But the bar was too much for me.  Too much noise.  I ended up leaving before everyone else with the excuse that the smoke was irritating my allergies.  If it had just been dinner it would have been OK.  But two teachers showed up Friday morning with balloons and flowers.  And the other teachers brought a gift in the evening.  As bad as it sounds, I’m planning on regifting the candles they got me.  I couldn’t have them around without associating them with my birthday.

I wonder how much my birthday has to do with this constant low level depression I’ve had.  I seem to get this way every year.  Back when I was in grad school and working with a psychologist, I spent every single birthday in his office.

I certainly don’t see anything worth celebrating about my life.  In fact, the suicidal thoughts and SI urges have gotten stronger this weekend. I spent the bulk of Saturday in bed.  I would sleep for about 4 hours, get up, take an Ativan, and repeat the pattern.  I had no desire to face life.  Today has been slightly better.  I managed to get up and check my email.  Then I went back to bed.  I managed to get up again around 2 and get to the doctors and the grocery store (nice little clinic they have in Lotte Mart).  My allergies have been so bad, I have a completely clogged right ear.  I can’t hear a thing out of it.  I just wanted to make sure I didn’t have an ear infection to go along with everything else.  I only lasted about 20 minutes in the store itself.  Too crowded.  Too bright.  Too loud.  You all know the drill.  That’s why I took a list with me.  That way I could get what I needed and get out.

I really need to clean up the apartment.  I have a pile of dirty dishes.  I have a load of laundry just waiting for the washer to be turned on.  I need to put the sheet back on my bed (it popped off during a nightmare a few days ago).  Heck, eating would be a start.  I think the last proper meal I had was Friday night at dinner.  I’m not sure when the previous one was.

With all the sleep I had this weekend, you’d think I wouldn’t be tired.  But I am.  I know that I’ve been having nightmares again.  But they’re the ones I just don’t remember.  Sometimes I think it would be easier if I did remember them.  At least I could get them outside of my head.  As it goes right now, I just wake up terrified or in a panic.  Trying to deal with the resulting anxiety is sometimes more than I can take.  I just get on the computer and wander around the internet, never really finding anything helpful or interesting.

I want to hide.  I don’t want to deal with the real world.  I don’t want to see my students (I ran into one at the store, sigh).  I don’t want to worry about presentations (they’re next Saturday).

6 thoughts on “I hate ’em

  1. M says:

    Best wishes belatedly for the 20th and for every other day.

    Why not invite some of these teachers round to your place for an easy-to-prepare meal, maybe just a salad with something substantial and then a nice dessert, but invite them well in advance so you have time to sort the place out? You could use the candles then.

  2. Thanks.

    I did start to clean up the mess. The laundry is running. The dishes are half done (soaking a gross pan). I bundled up the trash. But I’ll take it out in the morning. I’m not getting dressed just to run downstairs.

    The balloons the teachers got me are pretty much deflated, so I’m going to take a giant pin to them. The popping might make me feel better.

    The other teachers and I discussed doing a month dinner out. I think I can manage a few hours once a month. It probably would do me good.

    I’d do the dinner thing in my apartment, but there’s literally no place to sit. We have studios. I have a desk and a chair. That’s usually where I eat (when I actually eat).

  3. I feel the same way about birthdays. They are very sad and trying times for me.

    Other people are upset about getting old or don’t want to celebrate because of that, but my emotions about birthdays are due to PTSD as an abuse survivor. I find I’m triggered and deeply saddened by everything related to them.

    You’re not alone in your thoughts and feelings. One thing I did was adopt a different date to celebrate as my “rebirthday,” instead of my actual day of birth. Choose any date or day of positive significance to you. I will post about this in detail, with different ideas about how to choose and announce a “rebirthday” to the trusted people that care about us.

    You are a precious, priceless being. Do everything you can think of to give yourself constructive moments of solace and pleasure. Strolls in the park, enjoying mother nature, cuddling with fur-babies, stopping to smell the roses by any other name. As survivors we have to give each other and ourselves the simple pleasures of life and gifts of preciousness we never received.

    Sending you a bouquet of good thoughts, caring energy, and blessings for peace and joy. Take great care of your precious being. (((Safe Hugs))), WW

  4. kprsjohn says:

    sorry things have not been going well, we always dreaded our birthdays, as they were not good at home so not a happy thing to be remembered. We hope your allergies let up and you can feel better

    peace and blessings


  5. Annette says:

    Hello dear one,

    I have read along some of your blog, and want you to know that I am sharing your story in my own way. I have also suffer some abuse, but not as severe as you. May I encourage you, although you may not believe me, your soul (the eternal part of you) was never damaged during your abuse, no matter what the suffering, the soul always remains innocent. Your spirit (or what gives you character, your emotions, etc.) does get confused, and suffers greatly. I am proud of you for being able to share this way and hope that it provides growth out of this tragedy. I was once told the importance of proper counsel is imperitive for abuse victims, because if they don’t get help, they may become abusers (i am NOT implying this to you), just sharing it, because you are doing the right thing. It is natural to internalize and devaluate yourself, but you are priceless and of great worth, and precious. God had raged His anger in desperation for the suffering you’ve endured, I was allowed to see this in my own abuse, that God was enraged and grieving for His little one. The ones that have sinned against you will pay greatly, but your soul is still pure, the only thing that causes your soul to tarnish is your personal choices to knowingly do wrong, but only you know the condition of your soul, and God too.. But you are precious, please know that. Start from there, knowing that you are wanted, cared for, preciouse in HIS sight, your soul was not damaged, and HE can repair your spirit. I write this with much compassion and love.

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