I'm just a fat gal with a blog and an opinion. Well, lots of opinions.

Can we discuss birthdays?


How do you celebrate? How long? Who is a part of the celebration? Who plans? What do you ultimately want out of your birthday?
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Every year I get asked what I want to do, what’s the plan, what do I want, and it’s all too fucking much! I’ve had enough absolutely terrible birthdays to know that I can’t expect a thing from anyone unless I plan some shit and invite folks (and sometimes even pay for the whole thing). I can’t do that this time. I can’t. I’m not only broke, I’m beyond the point of broke. I’m depressed. I’ve been out of work longer than I have since my very first lay off in 20o3. Life is just too much and not enough for me at the same time right now. I can’t do a damned this to change this. I have tried everything within my power and knowledge and nothing is happening.

So, yesterday, again, my boyfriend asks me what I want to do for my birthday. I tell him I don’t know. That maybe I don’t want a birthday. “Can I donate it to someone who is worse off than me?” I ask him, with sincerity but I don’t think he got that. It’s just that I was raised to not want thing, to not ask for anything and to not ever have expectations for such things because you’re just shooting yourself in the foot if you do.


I have friends who don’t just have birthdays, they have a birthday week or month long celebrations by their friends and family and it’s amazing to me. How does that happen? Where or when does that start? How can this even be a thing? It seems so foreign to me and yet I see it all of the time.

So why does the mere mention of my birthday give me such a ache?  Why are all of the expectations placed on me? I don’t even know what the fuck to do with my life and now you want me to plan a fucking event? I can’t. I don’t have the money and I don’t have the fucking bandwidth.

The last birthday I spent with my then-husband he asked me a few weeks before while we were walking the dog, “So what do you wanna do for your birthday? What do you want me to get you?” and I responded, perhaps a bit too quickly, “I just want to feel special. That’s it.” and he got me the worst gift ever and even ruined my self-papering day by taking the day off and staying home, not to do anything with me, mind you. UGH! It was heartbreaking and I wish I could say it was the only one like that but it wasn’t. There’s been too many.

I just don’t get all of the expectations and planning and what in the actual fuck?!?!?! Ya know? And I couldn’t remember what I did last year for my birthday (2013’s was amazing and the best in my life but yeah I planned that shit like whoa!) and so I went through my photos from last year. I was depressed and out of work. Oh! Exactly where I am now! How fucking depressing! UGH! I just…I don’t even know what I want or what I want to do or if I want to do anything at all. Part of me wants to hide myself away at home and pretend I don’t even exist that day. Drink a bottle of wine alone and watch my favorite movies and just be drunk and cry. But shit, I do that already! Hardly anything special about that.

And I feel gross asking for anything. Like Anything feels like too much! And I need new tires (plus alignment). I need to get the rear end of my poor car repaired. I have a dentist bill that’s gone unpaid. I have debt (from surviving). I want knee high socks. I want to not feel so lonely all of the time. I want a career. I want stability (sanity). I want to feel good about something again. I want to be who I once was, happy, driven, creative, fun…bionic knees and eyes would be nice, too.

No one can just give me those things. So what do I say? I can’t say anything and everything is too much. My heart feels broken a lot of the time and I can’t even put a finger on why. What I want and need doesn’t exist in my world. It’s everyone for themselves and I’m drowning.

My friends and boyfriend are emotionally supportive, please don’t get me wrong about that. I’m alive because of them. I am ceaselessly grateful for their existence and presence in my life! I just can’t help but wonder what the point of it all is. I don’t know what moves me anymore. I don’t have drive or ambition. I don’t have creativity to lift me out of the deeper funks like I used to. Everything I want is a fantasy, it doesn’t actually exist but inside my own head and even that’s tinged with sadness.

I don’t want to bring others down, either. Everyone’s got it rough right now. I can’t expect others to fill the gaps in my sanity and life in general. I’m lucky I have the existence that I do! If not for the grace of my beloved Raven and the state of California’s unemployment program I would be ass-out on the street, for real.

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So what do you do? How do you celebrate your day/week/month of you-ness? What about when times are tough and you’re struggling with just being you?

Rad Fatty Love,

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