And I thought I could escape it
Every year I end up having some sort of birthday related anxiety.
It usually starts somewhere around September 20th and lasts up until November 9th. It varies from year to year, but mostly it involves the following:
- extreme feelings of deja-vu
- depression mostly centered around having not done what I “should” have done with my life to this point
- extreme body image issues
- alcohol, alcohol, alcohol
- in recent years: extreme rage against my ex…more so than normal
But this year, oh this year I thought I had escaped it! I thought FINALLY I would have a year where I could feel good about myself. No restless nights, no crying jags, no comparing myself to everyone else.
And then Friday night happened.
I don’t know what triggered it. I really don’t. But all of a sudden I got freaked and had the weekend from hell. It culminated in a mid-Sunday crying session where I continually wondered where the fuck my happily ever after was. It occurred to me that every fairy tale, every chick flick, everything that promised me I could find someone to love me was full of shit. My happily ever after apparently involved abuse and dishonesty.
What’s scarier is the idea that I didn’t choose “happily ever after.” That I didn’t take the road where I could have been with my prince (who was a loser. Total loser). I took the road where I’m ultimately lonely at the end, even if I’m successful and strong. And I don’t know if I can deal with that.
I know, I know, I’m all about the girl power. And not needing a man. Doesn’t mean I don’t WANT someone to wake up to in the morning. Doesn’t mean I don’t look back and wonder what could have been if I’d done something differently. If I’d stayed the course, I’d be married with at least one kid and I’m pretty sure I never would have found this place. But having not stayed the course, I’m lonely and emotionally broken. I don’t know which is worse.
I’m not afraid of getting older. 25 greets me with good intentions and the probability of a new tattoo on my hip. I’m happy to face another year because I know that I’ve GROWN UP in a lot of ways, I’ve grown more towards the girl I want to be. I’m just afraid the girl I want to be is always the one locked inside the heart shaped box, wanting to get out but unable to breathe.
