Break on Through to the Other Side

So. We're here again. The annual 'I'm growing a year older tomorrow' post. I hate this fucking day. This entire fucking week, as a matter of fact. 

I turn 29 now. I am older, sadder, fatter, uglier, unhappier, more incomplete, less content. And less young. Why do people celebrate birthdays? I mean leave aside my obvious mother and father issues, my utter hatred for my birthday; why do people celebrate growing closer to death without having achieved anything good? Why am I the anomaly for hating this day? More people should hate their birthdays with a passion. Or is bloody everyone else so well adjusted?

What's more, this has been a truly awful year. My grandfather died, I went through a serious bout of depression, my uncle died and my relationship with my best friend has deteriorated to the worst it has ever been. Another shitty, shitty year. Another year of reasons to be unhappy. 

And worst of all, I am still all alone. Two of my close friends both made giant strides in their professional lives alongside me this year. And in the same year, they also moved forward personally in significant ways. I am still here. Still the same. No forward movement. Calcifying in this unhappy place until I won't ever be able to break on through to the other side. I can hear the desperation in my mother's voice every time she calls. Literally, every time she calls. She's terrified for me.

So here's the thing, no surprises here. I hate this day. I loathe it with the passion of a thousand burning whatevers. I'm also really beginning to hate myself.