Birthday blues

I had the loneliest birthday ever...

I've had birthday anxieties since I turned 20, and this year wasn't much better. The entire week before my birthday I was in a bad mood, depressed and just generally feeling like shit, and I started getting existence issues again. I simply didn't want to exist. And then the day before my birthday came.

It was a horrible day, and I knew it the moment I woke up from a nightmare and stumbled out of bed that this was a day I'd rather just avoid. I was heavily depressed all day, just wanting to disappear or stop existing. I seriously had to struggle to get myself to keep on breathing the entire day. And so, as people came over, I simply retreated and hoped to ignore my own head and the anxiety I had been fighting all day. But things didn't work out well, and I did a horrible thing, letting my weakness get the better of me and making the dearest being alive pay for my lack of strength. I am so horribly ashamed of it, and truly sorry, cause she certainly didn't deserve to be put in the middle of my misery. No one does.

But at least I learned from it, cause now I know I'll never take anyone down with me when I fall ever again. The next time I stumble - and I know it'll be a next time - I'll simply go down alone. Cause that'll hurt less than what it does when I know I've hurt someone else with my problems. Especially when it's someone so dear to me.

But, that put behind, we did go out for a drink and I actually had a somewhat decent time. I felt like crap the entire evening, yes, but at least it felt good to be out and at least trying to have fun, if nothing else. It was the day after, my actual birthday, that really ruined me.

My dearest being was broken after the night before, and ended up going to her mother to stay the night there, so after my trip to town with mum I was left alone in an empty apartment that wasn't even mine. I'll be honest and say that it was absolutely horrible. On top of general birthday anxieties and the aftershocks of the night before and how my head got the best of me, I was now utterly alone in a place that wasn't even my home. I'll be honest; the thought of just ending things crossed my mind more than once. But, knowing that this wasn't my home, and that eventually the owner - my most dearest being - would come home and would have to clean up my remains, I managed to keep from it. Instead I packed up all my things, tidied the place up a bit, and made myself ready to move out and into my own apartment again. I found that to be the only solution to things.

So it was a horrible birthday. Really horrible. It's one that won't be leaving my mind in the nearest future, if at all. Though, of course, admitting this in front of anyone? Never. People have enough trouble with their selves, and I've sworn to never take anyone down with me ever again, so I'd rather just grin and bare it in front of them so not to burden them further with my problems. They need not worry any more than what they already do.



So, here I sit, alone in my own apartment - which, by the way, is a chaotic mess - and just wish with all my might that things could've been different. And I pray, I pray so hard, that I'll be able to stay here by myself and not end up doing something stupid. I need to fight my way through this, somehow, and hopefully emerge victorious at the end. What more can I do? It's been 26 years of misery, my life, so there really isn't anything to do but to keep fighting that misery. Maybe one day, I'll be allowed that happiness I've been seeking all those years. Or so, at least, I hope.