So, we are fast approaching April, which means my SAD is about to kick in. It means saying goodbye to winter and saying hello to spring, sweating, mosquitoes, and humidity. Yay. Really. Just, yay. Still, spring isn’t so bad–not in comparison to summer. I hate summer. I just want to hibernate until it’s over.
There’s another reason I don’t like April: I was born in the month. Now, let me hasten to say that I am not one of those people who bemoan getting older. I don’t attach any particular meaning to the numbers. In fact, I start saying I’m a year older at the beginning of the year so I’ll be used to saying it by the time I hit my birthday. Of course, that leads to some confusion in the three months leading up to my birthday when I have to stop and think how old I actually am. So, I am thirty-eight right now, but I say I’m thirty-nine. Hey, that’s 13 x 3. That’s cool.
Anyhoo, I’ve never cared about getting older. I will never lie about my age. I’m actually amazed I have lived this long, so why short myself on that account? However, in the past, I used to get extremely depressed about my birthday because it would remind me of all the shit I hadn’t done yet in my life. No job, no hubby, no kids, no published fiction, no great contribution to society. Never one to be shy about self-flagellation, I would berate myself mercilessly on the day of my birth. My parents would call and ask if my brother had taken me out to dinner for my birthday. They would wish me a happy birthday, and I would tell them to stuff it, but in marginally-politer terms. My mom would reminisce about my birth, and I would curtly tell her that she should be the one congratulated for doing all the work–not me. Yes, I was a total bitch about it. I fully admit it. I hated my birthday with every fiber of my being.
In addition to reminding me of all the ways I had failed up to that point, my birthday served to remind me that I was alive. For so many years, this was a negative for me. I did not want to be alive, and there was my fucking birthday taunting me with the fact that yes, I was, indeed, still technically among the living.