I'm going to try to make this short, more because I only have about 20 minutes before I have to leave for work than because I don't have much to say. I hate this time of year. I try really hard not to hate it, really I do. In fact, today is a very special day for someone I love. Today is my Mr.'s birthday. I truly hope he likes his gift and that today is filled with blessings for him. However, outside of that one thing, there isn't much I care for in this month.
Why is this month so horrible? Well, for the days leading up to my own birthday they serve as an anticipation for a day that has never been special for me, and for the days that follow it, they serve as a transition back to life as normal. Why do I hate my birthday so much? It has nothing to do with aging, after all, none of us can change the course of that. I hate my birthday so much because it is nothing more than a reminder of the day I was born to someone who hates me.
I have no fond birthday memories growing up. I didn't have birthday parties and celebrations, my brother and sister did but they aren't the ones who ruined our mom's life - I was. She's told me that. When I was younger. I ruined her life. I didn't ask to, but I did and it is a weight I have carried my entire life (well, since she told me) and who likes to think their existence is a reason for someone else's pain? Mine is.
It is hard growing up knowing the only people who wanted you were your grandparents, yet those people are no longer here, so I am left with the nothingness of love that parents should give their children. I think this is why I try so hard to give my Littles the best birthdays ever. Birthdays should be a celebration of the gift of life the Lord gives us, not the reminder of how much of a mistake you were.
I was a mistake. I have been told this time and again, my brother, 20 months younger than me, was not. He is a boy. He has always been more special because of that. Then my baby sister, 10 years younger than me, well, isn't it the way of things the baby of the family gets more attention. I know, you are reading this and thinking why is a woman, nearing the last year of her third decade of life writing like a sullen teen? No matter how old you get, you are still someone's child. For some of us, that is a cause of great joy, for other's it is a cause of great sadness.
I can never do anything right. My life is nothing to my family, most especially my mom. I wish she could love me like my siblings, but perhaps the pain of the way I ruined her life, all those years ago, is too much. I am sorry for that. I truly didn't mean to. So, with that I say this - I cannot change where I came from. I cannot even change who I came from, but I will love those who the Lord gave me with all of my heart - because He loved me enough to bless me with them.
Should I bump into you in the next few days, please don't take my withdrawn nature personally. I will snap out of it. I will be ok. It has nothing to do with how I feel about you, it has everything to do with how I feel about myself and the reminder of the date that is the biggest reminder of what I am.