The Truth About Birthdays

So Sunday is my birthday.

the big 2-1.

21 going on what feels like 50.

Truth is, I hate birthdays.

Okay, not all birthdays, just mine.

And no, it's not the whole i'm a year older, oh my gosh is that a wrinkle thing.

I've hated it since I was ten. So yeah, half of my life I have hated the only "holiday" celebrated for me.

I was ten. I was super stoked because, I mean, what little kid doesn't love their birthday? So I was all excited because I was going to go to dinner with my family, and for once I got to pick where we went. Talk about absolute elation on my part.

Well, unbeknownst to me, my parents had been having some, we'll call them problems. Well these problems bled into my birthday bliss and there was a huge, huge fight. and I mean like full on screaming, doors slamming, lots of adult words being used, and here sat little me. Stunned.

I didn't know what to do. I just went with it. We went to dinner.

It was super tense, but we ate.

happy birthday!

Fast forward two years later.

Same. Freaking. Situation.

Except this time I had a cell phone because I was playing ball on a higher level so we had a lot of practices. Anyway, all hell broke loose. On my birthday.

Right before dinner. Again.

[Is it just me or is anyone else seeing a trend here?]

I panicked. I just couldn't handle it. I had always had anxiety, but it was typically about school. This was the first time that I had a real panic attack.

I mean like, hysterical crying, hyperventilating, shaking, it wasn't pretty.

I ran out of my house and called my young women's leader who had grown up in a similar situation.

She wasn't home. [cue more panic]

I called my best friend.

Lucky enough, she was with a friend of ours, and her mom is kind of an expert with that kind of thing. She went to school to be a child psychologist before she had her kids. Anyway, I called, sobbing, and they came

to pick me up.

By this time, my dad had walked out the door and said 'Okay, let's go. Looks like it's just going to be me and you.' I just told him that I couldn't go. I

had called Tauni and she and Steph were coming to pick me up.

happy birthday!

It seems like this time every year things get really, really tense around here. I don't know if it's just because we all have cabin fever and want to get out or what, but it's not exactly  ideal for celebrating.

Year after year, it's just kind of been conditioned into me to be on edge around my birthday. It's like I am

waiting for the shoe to drop. For the rug to be ripped out from under me.

Regardless, I hate birthdays.