What I hate most about my birthday? Knowing I am 45 and I need to start completely over in my life. I gave my best years to a man who used me. A man who saw me as somewhat dispensable and as a tool. While he succeeded at his job and obtaining a college degree, only because I stayed here at home, doing everything so he could spread his wings and soar. And me? I’m jobless. I have no place I can move to right now. My mother’s home? Yes. I can go there. But she tells me that is my fault my husband cheated and used me. Because I told him daily that I loved him and appreciated him. Oh. The horrors. How could I have done that ? She has also told me that true love does not exist. That he will try to kill me. She tells me I always have a place to go, that her home is always my home. But it will come with a price. I can not move from one dysfunction to another. And when I mentioned to my kids last night that I’m looking at rentals in the town where I grew up, and might have job interviews there soon, they were mad at me. I don’t know what in the hell I am supposed to do. Happy fucking birthday to me. This day only reminds me of my failures. And that last year at this time, my husband was beginning to sleep with a disgusting whore. So today? Today I hate everything. Ironically, only my husband and nephew have said happy birthday to me this morning. My husband tried to kiss me on my mouth. I wanted to vomit on him. But I let him hug me. Now I need a shower.
I’m clinging to the good time I had this past weekend, celebrating my birthday with some beautiful women. But even that was colored negatively because a friend canceled. She tried to ruin my surprise. She gave me a few clues over the past few weeks but I tried to ignore them. I didn’t want the friend who planned this all to know I was onto a possible surprise party. I mean half the fun in surprising someone is surprising them, right? And now the friend who canceled? This is all about her. She this and she that. What the fuck ever. Let’s make my birthday weekend about her. Thanks for that. I’ve suffered with depression for years, so I get it. But if you can’t put your shit aside for just a moment, what does that say about you? I have put on my big girl panties more times than I can remember, to be there for friends. And I never made their problems about me. Never. This woman has canceled plans with me more times than I can count. And the worst time was when she was supposed to bring dinner for my family, which SHE offered to do, after I had a surgery. She text messaged me ten minutes before she was supposed to come over with dinner to tell me she had to get home because her husband cooked dinner for them. So, in a drug induced painful stuper, I had to get my stitched crotch up and cook for five people. But days later, when I expressed my anger and disappointment with her? Yeah. It was all about her and how it was just a big misunderstanding. How does one misunderstand that a friend is coming with dinner the day you’ve had surgery? I’m so done with toxic people in my life.
I’m so angry today. This is not good. I know this. I’m just learning how to let go of all this anger and today I’m not doing so well but I’m hanging on.