Another Year: The Loneliness Yet Peacefulness Of It All

         My birthday was Sunday. This year was definitely different. My dad is no longer here. The past month or so has been a blur, but somehow I’ve been able to go day by day a bit easier. I guess I had convinced myself that I was healed. When I woke Sunday morning and walked into the kitchen to see my mother’s birthday card sitting on the counter I was slapped with the harsh realization that a card was missing. I keep forgetting that my life is forever changed. Still last weekend and this week has been a blur. I went to a party Saturday night and although I had fun something was off. I guess I should accept that this will be my life for a while. I already have social anxiety and depression now we add grief to the mix.
        Overall my birthday weekend was nice and laid back. I got to spend it with awesome people even though a few were missing that I wish weren’t. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t have something to rant about though. Just a little something to get off my chest although I am in no way surprised. That Saturday afternoon I went shopping with my mother and grandmother. The next day my grandmother had forgotten that it was my birthday and my mother had to call her to tell her. Now some might say, “Well, she’s older. Something like that is bound to happen from time to time.” Sure. Yes. I’d go with that if I wasn’t always the forgotten granddaughter. She can tell you when my other two cousin’s birthdays are. Hell my birthday is EXACTLY TO THE DAY two weeks after my youngest cousins. I have always been forgotten. I am the black sheep. My other two cousins are treated as gold and I’m only acknowledged when she wants something. As far as family goes I love her because she is my grandmother, but that love is out of obligation not from the heart. I feel like an asshole when I say that, but it’s true. I have no emotional connection with her. It’s unfortunate, but it’s reality. A lot of my lack of self esteem comes from being a child and being teased or ignored by people who were supposed to love me unconditionally. So naturally, for me, I grow up with this resentment. Her forgetting my birthday actually had no effect on me until my mother mentioned it and even then it didn’t have an effect until I realized that my mother was surprised by it. Really? I’m 34 and for as long as I can remember I’ve always been an afterthought to this family. I’ve always been forgotten about. Why the surprise? She’s falling right in line. It didn’t really put a damper on my day since it’s nothing out of the ordinary.
         As far as everything else I sort of wish I had done something big, but on the other hand I kind of feel like those days are over. I’m getting closer and closer to 40, my group of friends is pretty small, and in all actuality I probably prefer a more mellow celebration. Here’s to hoping that 34 brings more peace to my life and something more magical and complete.

       -Asia Aneka Anderson, 2016©

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