september 23rd, 2023

I hate my birthday. It’s coming up soon, and I’m one of those people who gets really sad on their birthday; it’s birthday depression. verwellmind.com says that symptoms of birthday depression can include the desire to isolate, the dislike of celebrations, and difficulty focusing and concentrating. Mac Demarco said in a field recording with NPR how he gets the “birthday blues” and chooses to go somewhere and spend his birthday alone. I’ve romanticised this idea since the day I saw that video, yet I have never gotten that chance—I’ve never given myself that chance. I’ve had my opportunities, yet I never committed to it. Maybe it’s because there’s a subconscious mechanism at play, and I really want to spend my birthday with people that care about me. But maybe I self-sabotage out of self-hatred, or don’t feel like I deserve the attention, or maybe I like the attention too much I won’t be grateful and personable enough. 

Because of my personal feelings about my birthday I actively forget others’ birthdays. I forget to send birthday messages to so many people—people that remember my birthday and always send me messages. Sometimes I don’t even respond to those messages. That makes me a horrible person, I know. I’m working on it. Those types of things really kill your relationships; it’s one of the worst things you could possibly do to yourself, and that is alienate yourself from your loved ones in a way that makes them feel you could care less about them. It’s sad, because I don’t feel that way, I never have. 

I go through times where I’m extremely self involved, and sometimes those times never leave. At what point is it a personality trait. I’ve struggled to come to terms with these selfish traits, they seem inherent at times. Having lived with a narcissist made me question these traits, and I’m actually grateful for it. If there was anything productive and meaningful from wasting my time with a narcissist, it was recognising our similarities. Maybe I’m just slightly traumatised and I’m a sensitive individual. But it feels more real than that. 

This blog is starting to feel like a confession. Am I doing it right? Probably not, but I don’t care, this is for me. 

See what I mean? 

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