I celebrated my 24th year last weekend.
I overhype all my birthdays.
I guess I’m not alone in this, but I start looking forward to my birthday a month or so before it happens. I’ve been working twice as hard the past month (considering all my anxiety attacks that I had to fight in relation to my job) just so I can treat myself to something. I ended not paying for both my parties (thanks to lovely friends) and I was able to use the money to treat my family to a birthday dinner and buy myself some things that I’ve been wanting to get but had to set aside because of house needs. It was a good birthday, despite that one incident that I don’t want to record anymore. I escaped the grueling realities of life for 4 days before going back to my daily grind. Other days, I would have been disappointed but for now, I feel liberated.
After 24 years of living, I discovered a lot about me and my birthday in general. I’ve learned that I am deathly afraid of death (ha, see that?) but am suicidal just the same. I love to change my nail polish every week and I think red is a beautiful hair color. [PS As I type this, I am painting my nails the color of a the sunflowers] I am hopelessly in love with the man who is my happiness but also knows the ways to reduce me into ashes. As of now I am sure that the wolf symbolizes me and my love affair with the moon (as part of my fascination with my zodiac, Cancer) and strongly considering having it inked on my body. I feel my life is about to change and I am constantly pulled as if on a tug of war between being excited and horrified. But just this weekend, I feel like I was given free pass to love life again and feel as if there’s something worth fighting for.
I know life is now back at being ‘meh’ and I just finished a 3.5 hour workshift today to somehow make up for my missed lesson time at work, but it was an amazing birthday–an amazing escape–that only comes by once a year. I am thankful.
Cheers to 24.