(wow. i look like i'm having some sort of gastrional issue.)
(***Edit*** and apparently it also looks dirty. you guys never disappoint!!! haha)
This really weird phenomenon happens to me every year right around the 29th of September - That would be what I like to call, "The Birthday Blues".
I suffer from it. I for some reason get depressed on my birthday. I don't like to tell people it's my birthday, and I like to sit around and feel sorry for myself. This all started happening when I moved out of the house (and far away) at 18. I realized that I was an adult and that there would be no birthday parties thrown for me from my parents, no millions of birthday gifts, no going out and picking up my birthday present from the mall. It was real life shit that I had to deal with, and I'm still throwing a pity party over it and I'm going to be 25. Now if I want a birthday present, it has to work within our budget - and what's the surprise in that? Blech.
And what's hysterical is that I want to be doted on and have a freaking parade down main street, but I don't want to tell anyone I want that and I don't want to act like I want it either. These things don't matter unless it's a surprise, or it just feels shitty. I'm such a freaking brat!
But the truth is, I know my husband is planning on getting me something this year (he's not very secretive even though he tries to be). And I love him so much for thinking about me and wanting me to have a good birthday - but I know I'll be depressed and wishing the day to be over. Mostly because I know I can't be a spoiled brat and lay around and get what I want. This blog post is really making me look so bad. Oh well.