The most conflicting thing about loving Halloween, and hating my birthday is that I want to go out and participate in Halloween events, but my self-loathing-ass doesn’t allow me to do so, since I am reminded that I don’t actually have friends that would want to do that shit with me, and even when I do think of a person to go and do the activities with, I feel like there’s no point because. These chain of thoughts come about every year in October – well I think like that 24/7 but I gets worse in October, despite it being my favourite month, my sever depressing deepens due to the fact that I’m reminded of how lonely I am. It gets worse when I think that I should start planning a birthday event, since some people plan months in advance, yaknow people with friends who actually need their RSVP’s, so I spend hours trying to conjure up a birthday event: searching cool Halloween parties, or cool restaurants to go to, I find plenty! Halloween events are always the coolest, there are so many to choose from, that is never the issue, the issue is who the fuck do I invite? Who in their right mind is willing to dump their (main) group of friends on Halloween weekend in order to celebrate my birthday, when I’m overall a shitty friend to everyone, who doesn’t even deserve to have them sing happy birthday to me.
To make things worse, not a day goes by that I don’t see people sharing on facebook which halloween parties and events they are planning to attend with their friends, or people choosing costumes to wear to go clubbing, or photos of people attending pumpkin patches with their significant other and all I can think about is “what about me?” What about me? Why is it that every October I expect people to throw the fact that I have ignored them for the other 11 months of the year out the window, and come join me on the most fun night of the year? Why would anyone want to willingly spend his or her night with sad-emo-lil-me? I don’t blame my so called acquaintances, if I were them, and I had a healthy social life like them, I would prefer to go out with other people so I can avoid drama and enjoy the spooky evening.
Nonetheless, here I am panicking, stressing, and sad. It doesn’t help that I have not only had the most terrible and traumatizing weekend of my life, I am also infatuated with a man that will never give me another chance — no not baby blue, and on top of all those mixed emotions I am overwhelmingly stressed about the philosophy exam I have tomorrow. For those of you who don’t know I took Philosophy in my second year at University, finished with a D because my prof was racist & misogynist, and I am now unable to declare my major in order to graduate because I need at least a C+ in the course. Stubbornly, I didn’t consult with a student counsellor and did my course planning on a whim, accidentally registering for a quantitative philosophy that is a lot harder than a normal philosophy course, doubling my chances at failing again… putting another $450 on the line. (And that’s what you missed on glee)
All this stress has left me without sleep for four days; I have raised my coffee intake to 7 cups a day leaving me more shaky than usual, and I am now, basically, waving my white flag for someone to jUST LOVE ME OR TAKE ME OUT OF MY MISERY. I know that that all of this sounds so small in comparison to what the hell has been blasted on the news these past two days, I know. I know. I know. I know. I am sorry, my heart is with the people of vegas, the people of puerto rico, the people of mexico, the people of everywhere in the world who were just trying to live their lives but had a third party destroy them from accessing basic necessities, but I have feelings too god dammit and I am being crushed by them and I JUST WANT ONE THING IN MY LIFE TO BE SOLVED.
To quote The Smiths, “I am human and I need to be loved’, because, yes, I am at the level in life where The Smiths describe my mood. I am all, “let me wear a noose as a necklace” because life isn’t giving me a break. Okay, well, no, don’t panic, my suicidal tendencies have been under control since the the summer, but I am so.fucking.tired. I have been weeping dramatically for a minimum of 6 hours straight since Thursday, it has gotten to the point that i have no longer say two or three sentences without my voice cracking, my bones hurt and I just want someone to scoop me up and tell me things will be okay, is that so terrible? Far-fetched maybe, but I do think it is reasonable, no matter how much of a terrible friend I have been to everyone, despite the fact that I have a crush on a guy that I rejected a few times, I am sorry okay? If I could take all those things back I would, one hundred times over.
I KNOW I HAVE BEEN A SHITTY HUMAN BEING BUT LET ME LIVE OR AT LEAST BREATHE FOR A FUCKING WEEK.
People need to understand that 2016 was the toughest year for me in my short twenty-one (soon to be twenty-two) years on this god-forsaken-planet, I have grown so much since. For one, I am no longer cry-baby, I am not that needy and whiney girl crying over her bandboy ex boyfriend who played her like a violin. I don’t need him, I don’t need closure, and I don’t care for him. Secondly, I no longer make plans when I know that I will cancel, I straight up say “listen, I’m going through shit I can’t”, and if that person is unable to understand that I suffer from severe depression, they know how to delete contacts and I will even show them how if needed. Thirdly, I am not self-destructive nor am I destructive towards other people, I don’t lead them on ghost them anymore, because I know it’s not funny, other people have feelings too. So, please, believe me when I say I am in the process of bettering myself. That doesn’t mean I don’t screw up, nor does that mean I fully capable of being a “normal” friend or girlfriend, but I am trying.
Man I don’t know I just hate birthdays. I don’t need to be reminded that I was brought on to this earth to be thrown into this literal hellhole both mentally and physically. As a kid, my birthdays were shitty because either someone in my house would always make me cry, or at my classmates would forget because they were all in costume to celebrate Halloween – in primary school I would bring cupcakes because that’s what everyone would do on their birthday, and the teacher took them, handed them out and said it was ‘halloween treats’, so I was the only one who didn’t get sung happy birthday to on their birthday… THAT WAS TRAUMATIZING AS A KID OKAY? — 99% of the time it was a combination of both these sad events causing my birthday wishes to be “please let this be my last birthday”. As a teenager I hoped that at least as an adult things would be different, that I would have a boy-friend who would surrise me or wear dumb matching costumes, or just take me on a drive while listening to a cheesy halloween mixtape, something better than forcing my parents to throw the most lavish birthday parties so I wouldn’t be alone, I had hoped that there would come a time in my life when people wanted to be around me for me, not because they didn’t have better hallowen plans, not because my parents paid for their dinner or bought them all build-a-bears . Instead, I have spent all my “adulthood” birthdays getting drunk and puking in a hotel toilet at 4am. For my 19th birthday, I spent it far away from home with my sister and her boyfriend because I literally had none. For My 20th birthday everyone bailed except one who I am forever grateful, she tried to help me have a good time but I ended up sobbing on the train ride home because of my ex .My 21st birthday was the biggest turn out, but I secretly hated every second of it and drank myself to an oblivion — It’s crazy how lonely you can feel amongst a big group of people. So, yeah,I do set myself up for misery 9/10 times but I am tired of that. This year, for my 22nd birthday, the only notable difference is that I am ten months sober, so I’ll be spending my birthday in bed under twenty blankets watching beetlejuice while eating cake. No one to call, no one to text, just me and a tense home – maybe more drama because it isn’t a birthday at home without drama.
Part of me is just saying to suck it up, make a facebook invitation invite a bunch of people and if no one shows up, well then c’est la vie. The other part is just too exhausted to even care, I am so mentally drained that I am not mentally capable to set myself up for disappointment. After a weekend full of crying and being reminded that I had no one to call in a crisis — no “IRL” friends, all I can think is why bother? Why either have everyone bail or sit in a room full of people when I’m mentally dead.
Honestly, I don’t know the point of this and I will probably delete this, I just needed a space to rant, cohesive or not, and since I did actually pay for a URL, I decided to utilize this platform and say that I actually posted. So, i’m sorry that this is my first blog post in months, and if you are new to my blog, please know that this won’t be the regular content. I’m just sad and my only friend is this website.
Press like if you, too, enjoy Halloween or press like if you, too, want to die.