The 'closer' in the title I am referring to is not 'closer to who I really want to be' or 'closer to who I really should be', but 'closer to death'. I know, I realize, I'm being glass-half-empty girl. I'm only almost 26, I'm somewhat healthy, I have a job. These are things that the majority of the world's population does not have. I know this.
And yet, I can not help but be depressed once more. A part of it is the natural trajectory that this day takes for me. I can never ever be joyful on this day. My birthday is not a happy day, this will never change. The other part of it is the annual reminder of just how old I am, and just how little of what I wanted I have achieved. And a grim admonition of how much closer I am to being a has-been.
No one seems to get it, of course. I just come off like an ungrateful curmudgeon, which I probably am. There is nothing to celebrate though. And I wish everyone would leave me alone to crawl into my bed and pretend just for a day that I do not exist.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, Happy Birthday, Me. Try not to fuck this one up.
