Happy Birthday

It’s my birthday.

Thirty one revolutions around the sun, and I’ve come to this conclusion.

I hate myself.

It’s just the beginning and it’s all uphill from here. I haven’t advanced any. Only regressed. What’s the future have in store for me? Well there’s my mom dying. There’s my brother dying. Yippee.

I’ve stopped looking to the future. I’ve stopped looking within for answers to what I want. I can’t. Truth is I don’t know how to be happy. Yes, there are immediate answers right next to me, but this is the mental obstacle that I am facing those are them and not me.

The shit of it is. As much as I hate writing these words, If I don’t face them they will linger just beneath the surface. Right there eating away slowly at my self, till there is nothing left.

Today went like this. Didn’t see a reason to stay up so, I just went to my turned the lights off and closed my eyes at nine pm yesterday. I was just there, neither sleeping nor conscious. <- that is a good descriptor of my life.) When the clock hit midnight it transferred to the new day of the calendar. The day I was brought into it. I spent the first few hours of it in a hazy sleep, not deep, not refreshing. This was because at around 2 my good ole night allergies started firing up.

Sneezing, running nose, have plagued my supposed resting time for my entire life. I got up and found the benedril and threw some down my throat. I couldn’t sleep. So I made the decision to stare at the ceiling till the medicine could take effect. While waiting I thought I would like to see the sunrise on my “Special day.” A quick google search and it was revealed it would rise at 6am. Perfect that is in a couple hours, I can rest up and walk up to the top of the hill and watch the new day begin.

Yeah sure! Easy as that. Wrong. I set my alarm for 5:30 am. It went off and I ignored it, like I do with all the other problems in my life. So I set myself up for failure there.

That’s one of the things I’ve come to realize with 31 years of myself. I love to fail. I love to dream but never fucking follow through. Fuck I hate this duality in myself. It’s like I can’t even get on the same page as myself, always lingering.

So the early morning rise, now gone I followed my usual routine of coffee on the front porch in the mid morning hours. I listened to a pursuit of wonder video on stoicism, cute idea but I am far from controlling my own mind.

While there the onslaught of happy birthdays and well wishing started streaming in. I appreciate them I really do. Yet, I can’t believe the kind words because I don’t believe in myself.

The garbage disposal broke. I found an allen wrench and cranked on it to get it spinning again. Once the motor was flowing freely it still wouldn’t engage with electricity. Maybe a circuit breaker flipped. Went out side checked the panel. Nothing out of sorts. Toggled the on/off switch. Still nothing. I then went back and flipped the breaker to the kitchen, hoping that would remedy it. It didn’t. I thought we had to call in an electrician. Until I thought maybe there was a reset switch on the bottom of the machine. There was. I flipped it and yes that’s all it was.

Then I was feeling caffeinated, I thought my mind was clear enough to start writing. I reluctantly sat down to start but didn’t. Instead I started answer those well wishers. I felt I had nothing of substance to say. After that I laid down and tried to close my eyes. Depression is a bitch, and makes sleep a better alternative to living.

I heard my brother and mother talking through the window, about what I wanted to do.

Again, I am a hypocrite. I hate being the center of attention, but somehow find myself in positions of focus. Just them asking themselves “What does Adam want to do today?” While I pretended to sleep, drove me up a fucking wall. Immediately sprang to and said I would like to have a piece of abandoned furniture moved to the street. I was quickly dismissed.

I don’t handle rejection well. That was my only plea, on my birthday. Feeling like you aren’t heard can be disheartening. So instead of pouting some more, I took that frustration to a previous endeavor of mine. two years ago I slapped together a frame of “An invention” I built. two years is a long time under the sun and weather. The idea was a resistance system for exercise using water. I am no engineer, nor craftsmen, so it was a bunch of sticks slapped together with nails and screws painted primer white. The thing about it was since the water is a dynamic load you use a lot more stabilizer muscles. That being said, I was too weak to even use my invention.

So I started up the sawzall and began cutting. I was mad. I was frustrated. My brother tried to calm me down, and stop me. I wasn’t having it. I thought that this apparatus would lead me to a better life. My friends sent me videos of me using it when it was new and I saw one being titled “Death trap fitness.” It took 3 weeks to build, and only three hours to rip it to shreds. I chopped it up into little pieces, to use as a fuel source for bonfire tonight. Now as the afternoon sun wanes, the wind has picked up. That idea might be kaput.

Now it’s 16 hours into my thirty first revolution and I do not know what the fuck is coming next.

What a time to be alive.