"Your laugh is like taking a shot of whiskey...
it warms you up."
Someone once said this about me. And I really hope that it's still true.
Monday, May 25, 2015
Monday, May 4, 2015
"Happy" Birthday to Me!
Birthdays are funny things. Some people love them, some despise them, all the while others pretend that they're no big deal. Normally, I have a mix of excitement and dread. I'm sure that if I stopped to think about it, I could explain the psychological reasoning behind my lack of enthusiasm. But I'll save you from the inevitable chaotic aftermath that would come from psychoanalyzing myself.
Before I continue with my thoughts, I feel like I need to add a disclaimer. You are not allowed to tell me that my feelings are invalid just because you are older than me. There is such a negative phenomenon that occurs when I voice complaints about my age. Anyone who is slightly older than myself seems to be compelled to convince me, just how fallacious my feelings are. As my preschoolers would say when encountered with people like that (a.k.a. bullies): "No thank you, friend."
There was something about the idea of turning 25 that scared the crap out of me. Perhaps the fact that I still need to find a place to live come July and that I currently have absolutely no idea what I want to do career wise has something to do with it. Maybe if I had my shit together in other departments, I wouldn't be having panic attacks over something as trivial as a birthday.
But people keep asking how I'm doing and it's getting harder for me to lie. Each day, it's getting harder to put on a smile. I'm not looking for sympathy, I'm just done giving untruthful answers.
Am I okay? Not really. But I will be.
Before I continue with my thoughts, I feel like I need to add a disclaimer. You are not allowed to tell me that my feelings are invalid just because you are older than me. There is such a negative phenomenon that occurs when I voice complaints about my age. Anyone who is slightly older than myself seems to be compelled to convince me, just how fallacious my feelings are. As my preschoolers would say when encountered with people like that (a.k.a. bullies): "No thank you, friend."
There was something about the idea of turning 25 that scared the crap out of me. Perhaps the fact that I still need to find a place to live come July and that I currently have absolutely no idea what I want to do career wise has something to do with it. Maybe if I had my shit together in other departments, I wouldn't be having panic attacks over something as trivial as a birthday.
But people keep asking how I'm doing and it's getting harder for me to lie. Each day, it's getting harder to put on a smile. I'm not looking for sympathy, I'm just done giving untruthful answers.
Am I okay? Not really. But I will be.
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