My Birthday...

I turn 25 in less than an hour, and I can't help but wonder what happened in the past year...the wasted year (and that works on many levels). I can't help but think that this was the year that changed everything, where my entire world fell apart. I don't want to celebrate this birthday nor even acknowledge it. It's like a bad dream. This whole year was like a nightmare. The impossible happened.


Things I couldn't even dream of when I turned 24 happened this year, my world shifted and expanded. I lost everything and had everything taken from me. Forgive me if talk of my birthday enrages me. Forgive me if I dismiss all of your drunken attempts to force me into merriment. Forgive me if just looking at you as you drink yourself into another stupor disgusts me. Forgive me if after I'm back on my feet I don't want to have to talk to you. I can't stand the images in my head...you represent the path I was taking, what I could have turned into if I allowed them to convince me to keep drinking the way I was before. A life of denial, a life of excuses for vices, a life of unfulfilled dreams and unreached goals.


So, no I don't want to talk about my birthday. No I don't want to go out and do some contrived activity with the family that I just happen to be staying with. No, I don't give a damn what we eat. Back off. I'd rather spend the whole day alone with my thoughts and a notebook than deal with this shit. I'm still trying to dig myself out of a hole that penetrated the earth's crust and headed straight for it's core. The past year was my own personal Armageddon and I'm not quite out of it and into Paradise yet. So just leave me be and let me deal with everything in my own way. Is that so much to ask?