I’m 25 today. Or tomorrow. I’m writing this the night before my birthday. I’m 25 on April 3rd.. That’s a whole quarter century! I’m excited even though tomorrow will play out like any other day, but I think I’m going to get a scoop of ice cream after school. The only thing that’s stopping me is the possibility of the flavour I want not being there.
But there are other flavours, you say. Any ice cream is good ice cream, you say. I’ve got my heart set on lemon poppy seed and if I don’t get it, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I write that, half joking, but truthfully, I really don’t know what I’d do. It’s my favourite flavour and I really want it and I’ve never been good at dealing with disappointment. I think that’s what I’m trying to write about.
Birthdays are usually such a disappointment, aren’t they? Some of the ones I’ve had have been. I never really got gifts when I was younger but we’ve always been tight on cash so no ones to blame for that. Any gifts that were given were like a treat that I never learned how to savour. I remember being younger and getting something, maybe it was a new jacket or a toy, I would have such a hold on it as if it would disappear to the point where I would ruin the thing by breaking it or ripping it.
Maybe it was the way that the things were given. My mother still does this thing where she hands things over with resentment, like, here, take it, kind of like this girl I took this biology class with years ago, when I asked for my sharpener, that she borrowed, back. As if I was some beggar that didn’t deserve to have it, that it was like a favour to me even though I didn’t ask my mother for anything. And of course, at that point I didn’t even want it, so I’d say that, and now she just leaves things at my bedroom door so we don’t have to deal with each other’s reactions.
I can tell that, now, she gives things to me out of (what she feels as) obligation. I try to get her a present whenever I can because I think it’s nice and it feels really good to get something nice, and I know that she feels like she’s obligated to get things for me even though she doesn’t think about whether I’d like it or not.
Woah, first I’m complaining about not getting anything and now I’m complaining about the things I do get? Who do I think I am? who cares, it’s my birthday (tomorrow) and this is my blog and I can say whatever I want.
There’s nothing better than giving or receiving a good gift. When someone hands you a present and you open it and you can feel the sentiment of, “I remember you said you really wanted that,” or “I saw it and thought of you!” or “I thought you might find it amusing or find use in it,” there’s no better feeling. I do genuinely try to think and put the effort in, instead of just grabbing anything for the sake of grabbing it. I admit I’ve failed at this at times and I’m painfully aware of it even if it was years ago and it haunts me and I’ll never forget about it. But giving a gift just for the sake of giving it is so hollow and it makes me so sad and disappointed. The present my mom gave me last year was the epitome of that feeling and it broke my heart because this is the person in my life that’s known me the longest and that was there when I was born and it felt so impersonal and that hurt.
Like I said, I really don’t deal with disappointment well. Right now I’m literally spiralling because my dad didn’t make me any onion rings even though I was thinking about having onion rings all day, and thought it very serendipitous that my dad pulled out the bag of onion rings when he got home from work. He made enough for himself, my mother, and none for me, so I’m sitting here, writing this and crying. Could all this have been avoided had I just communicated what I wanted? I guess we’ll never know.
I generally try to avoid situations where I’ll get too excited for an uncertain thing because disappointment can be crippling. Here’s a very depressing example. My partner and I have been together for a while, and every year (except last, because we weren’t together (mind your own)) we would do something for my birthday and he would do something that would really upset me. And I wasn’t even upset because of the weird birthday complex that I’m now realizing that I have, but it is something that I’m sure anyone would find upsetting. I’ll spare you the details, but it’s to the point where, this year, we’re not doing anything together because I literally could not handle the disappointment. I’m not doing anything with my family either, since they don’t really care and I usually end up buying my own cake and eating it alone anyway.
To my partners defence, he is a pretty great person otherwise and I do enjoy his company. I do feel obligated to write this part in case he somehow reads this and gets upset. Here you go, Paul. Sorry about your feelings but this is about me.
Hey, how about a change of pace? Last year, I threw myself a birthday party a month after my actual birthday and it was so much fun. I got to cook for my friends and spend time with them and I had a really great time because I over-planned and made sure there was no room for error (except for the beverages). My little sister got my a cake with a sloth on it and it was delicious.
Anyway, back to my moping. When the idea of my birthday enters my mind, I get excited, but when I actually think about my birthday I get really sad. I know birthdays aren’t a big deal but I love the idea of them and I love other people’s birthdays and I just want to spoil them so much that they feel like they’re going to burst with happiness. I want people to feel happy and excited and loved in an elevated way that maybe I felt once but I can’t remember anymore. Or maybe I never did and it’s not even real or possible, but I have this expectation that I’ll never live up to and I’ll do this to myself every year until global warming kills me. Who knows.
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A couple of days ago, my friend Coco came over and helped me make a cake, which isn’t the first time she’s come over and helped me make a cake, and after we frosted it and iced it and made it really pretty, I smashed my face into it. The cake was beautiful because Coco made it, and the video is hilarious, but it didn’t turn out exactly like I hoped, but I wasn’t disappointed.