Tags
alcoholism, baby, birth, birthday, celebration, depression, new child
Well tomorrow is my birthday and as usual… I am out of my mind with emotions. I WANT to hide, I WANT to scream, I WANT to cry, but most of all, I WANT to be happy.
January 2nd, my first Nephew, Simon Pine was born. Two months early… he is a whooping 4 pounds 11 ounces and doing okay for a baby that little. I can’t hold him yet. Super proud of my brother though. His mother, my sister-in-law, unfortunately shares the same birthday as I do. So the one day where I get to do whatever I want, and people look at me and want to do something for me, is now marred and shadowed by her. Everyone now says, “Get outta bed and stop feeling sorry for yourself, It’s “her” birthday! We gotta go celebrate it!” Yep… HER birthday. I get ignored 364 out of the year, and I am fine with being a wallflower most of the time. But when I get one day, just ONE DAY, to do whatever I want, it should be a selfish day! I have no problem with the baby’s birthday. It will be fun to put all the attention on a growing child. I just have a problem with her. Get your own fucking birthday!
So i’ll go buy a cupcake and sit in the dark with a bottle of vodka. My internal mind nymph, Mike, fucking loves this idea. He’s been so restless these past few days, racing up and down my arms and hip-hop dancing in the pit of my stomach. I hate that so much, so I quell him with alcohol and pills. Helps me get enough sleep at least.