32! The Year I Said No to Birthday Blues.
On my special day of the year, I’m at my lowest.
Every year, leading up to my birthday, I’m overwhelmed by sadness.
No, it’s not because I’m getting older- I have no issues with this. In fact, each year I’m grateful to be reaching another year with the opportunity to make this one better than the last.
From when the calendar shows me it’s the first day of my birthday month, I’m aware of what’s coming but because my birthday lands at the end of the month, I can afford to ignore it- there’s plenty of time.
Before I know it a week flies by, then two then I blink and it's exactly a week until the big day. My close ones catch wind of it and begin reaching out, asking me one after the other:
“What have you got planned for your birthday?”
Now, the thought begins to linger and haunts me.
I respond and say “I haven’t really got any plans.”
They either laugh because it’s typical of me, begin bombarding me with ideas or I’m instructed to let them know when I’ve thought of something.
When really, the only thing I want to do is have them all concerned.
I want to run and hide from everyone and cry in a dark room for the whole day (my exact thoughts this year).
I discovered a couple of years back that this is what we call Birthday Blues:
“Birthday depression, or the birthday blues, includes feelings of sadness, apathy, or a lack of desire to celebrate your birthday.” — verywellmind.com
Currently, Birthday Blues is not recognized as a mental health condition and there could be a range of reasons behind why one might suffer.
When I reflect on my childhood, I remember always feeling excited about my birthday, like most happy children. Then one year, the excitement never arrived, dread had snuck in and replaced it.
From the age of 11, I was raised by my father. Of course, I love my father but up to that point, my mother had always been my favorite. When she left, I cried every night for a year straight. I now understand I might have been depressed.
My mother was never completely absent and she would always call, and send cards and small gifts. I remember even during my rebellious teenage years, focused on my anger towards her- I would ignore her calls yet still sob over the birthday cards she sent. Triggered by the same handwriting I remember adoring as a child.
I haven’t been to therapy yet but these little realizations seem to rear their head more frequently as I become older and wiser.
Instead, I’ve slowly begun hiding less and sharing more with the people who love me.
This year, in the midst of forcing birthday plans yet again- I scrapped it all. I didn’t feel like considering anyone else’s preferences and I chose my own. It’s funny, the moment I did this, I instantly felt the cloud lift and the pressure dissolve.
For anyone else who suffers from any similar symptoms, please talk to someone you trust. You’re not alone.
