Spiny Lobster
Member
- Jul 16, 2020
- 53
I'm not sure how you guys feel about your own birthdays or holidays in general, but my birthday is a gigantic slap to the face. It's one thing to be celebrating someone else's birthday, but "celebrating" my birth is another beast entirely. I regret ever being born; how am I supposed to be happy about celebrating another year, when I should be dead? How is barely surviving another year some sort of accomplishment worthy of other people's praise and attention? My life would be just a little bit easier if I didn't have a birthday to worry about (both literally and figuratively).
Birthdays in general are hyped up to be something special. After all, the people in my life who never speak to me otherwise wished me happy birthday. Even my best friend wanted to call me on my birthday, but instead of having a normal fucking conversation with her, I broke down into tears and told her about my suicidal ideation. I'm embarrassed and humiliated. The people in my life are somehow grateful that I've been born, when I couldn't be any more ungrateful.
I generally feel hollow on my birthday (or any holiday, really). It's either that, or the devastating realization that I'm still alive. There is no in between. And yet, with the date comes the expectation that I should feel special. This expectation hollows me out all the more. And it's not like I can just pretend my birthday isn't a thing; my twin and a bunch of my other family members share my birthday.
I refuse to see another birthday. I refuse to be in any more pain and, with that pain, get a reminder once a year that the universe was cruel enough to give me life.
April 26th has and always will be the worst day for me and, whether they realize it or not, my loved ones. Thank you for coming to my pitiful birthday TedTalk, and I hope you guys have better days or even birthdays if you're able. I wouldn't want to wish this pain on anyone else.
Birthdays in general are hyped up to be something special. After all, the people in my life who never speak to me otherwise wished me happy birthday. Even my best friend wanted to call me on my birthday, but instead of having a normal fucking conversation with her, I broke down into tears and told her about my suicidal ideation. I'm embarrassed and humiliated. The people in my life are somehow grateful that I've been born, when I couldn't be any more ungrateful.
I generally feel hollow on my birthday (or any holiday, really). It's either that, or the devastating realization that I'm still alive. There is no in between. And yet, with the date comes the expectation that I should feel special. This expectation hollows me out all the more. And it's not like I can just pretend my birthday isn't a thing; my twin and a bunch of my other family members share my birthday.
I refuse to see another birthday. I refuse to be in any more pain and, with that pain, get a reminder once a year that the universe was cruel enough to give me life.
April 26th has and always will be the worst day for me and, whether they realize it or not, my loved ones. Thank you for coming to my pitiful birthday TedTalk, and I hope you guys have better days or even birthdays if you're able. I wouldn't want to wish this pain on anyone else.