It took me by surprise just like it does every year.
I woke up to a random text message from my cousin who I never hear from anymore. When I got to my mother’s house to pick up the motorcycle name pitput it was the first thing she said to me. Apparently she had posted some pictures on social media of me from the day I was born and then one random day at 7 years old. I didn’t look at them at all but I did ask her to remove them…
point 1: I haven’t celebrated my birthday since Mommy Lyla’s house. When my family tried at age 7 I just cried endlessly. Sure there were school kids there and my father had invited his work friends and every one was having a good time. But I hid in the bathroom then the closet until the house grew quiet. I felt bad. In my mind I had stolen Shay’s birthday. I didn’t want cake.
point 2: After that no one mentioned my birthday and it was weird to me to even consider the celebration I saw my schoolmates get so hung up on. They didn’t like that I didn’t think a birthday was anything special. I got picked on alot for that..
point 3: Eventually my father forgot when my birthday is. When I got older,13, I wanted to celebrate. Shay and Lyla had left my mind entirely. I didn’t understand why or how He could just forget my birthday. How was his only child’s first day of existense not important to him at all? This was when I really started feeling like my life was nothing but an inconvience. Though now I understand he was attempting to keep me safe and happy.
point 4: Now as an adult I still don’t want to advertise it. I don’t like the insane amount of attention I see others get. By all means if your birthday is an important day to you then party hardy babes. The most I do is bake a small cake and devour it. Not for me..but for Shay.
point 5: The last thing I want to say about my birthday; I get incredibly close to suicide every year. Not suicidial but I end up blacking out long enough to find myself at a hotel room or in the woods every year. This year I’m gonna do something different. I’m keeping busy. I’m focusing on anything else but what day it is.
One year I might be able to celebrate like every one else does. I’m getting closer and closer to feeling more like a normal person. That worries me.
But at least there’s cake.