20th Birthdays Suck

I can’t speak for all 20th birthdays, but mine definitely sucked. Here’s why:

It started out as a great day. I was awoken by my mom and three youngest siblings knocking on my door, bringing a trash can and a couple plants with them (my birthday presents, both of which I asked for and am grateful for). Then my best friend, whom I rarely see nowadays, came over and we went to Chipotle for lunch. We sat and talked for a couple of hours and caught up on everything. She gave me one of her handmade vodka bottle lights. I got home and took the dogs out for a walk, which has been long overdue. Bought some aloe for this horrible sunburn I got yesterday. Browsed the internet and killed time until I went to dinner with my grandfather.

This is where things began to turn sour. I get there early and when he finally arrives, it’s with his girlfriend, Carla. I have no qualms with Carla, but I just expected this to be a one-on-one dinner with Granddad. We had gotten somewhat close lately and I was kind of looking forward to getting to know him a little more. Nevertheless, dinner wasn’t bad and we parted ways. I get home and take my Psychology test and start up Pandora. That’s when my Depression decides to rear its ugly head. I feel the overwhelming need to cry, suicidal thoughts pour in, and I keep telling myself I have to push through it. Today is MY day. “Nothing bad has happened,” I keep telling myself. So I start a bonfire in the backyard, put on my James Taylor station (God bless that man), and text a few of my co-workers to come over after their shift if they would like. Well, turns out one of the cooks is already doing a Sunday Funday deal at his place. And since he’s the “cool kid” at work, everyone is going over there.

So here I am, sitting at home, listening to Fleetwood Mac near the bonfire all by myself. Sean, one of my best friends, decided he didn’t want to hang out this weekend, Will is barely answering his phone, and I didn’t hear anything from my dad at all today. Which is my fault, since I told him I didn’t want to talk to him for a very long time, but still, it’s my fucking birthday.

So, overall, really not a bad birthday for most people, but as someone who constantly feels alone and under-appreciated and inadequate, it was basically exactly what I didn’t need. Hopefully by the end of the night, someone will be a friend to me and stop by.


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