There comes a point in our lives when we’re over birthdays. That point seemingly is when we start descending the hill. That downhill point is different in all of our minds I suppose.
Back in 1992, we encountered death watch 25. Meaning, I was turning 25 and everyone was worried. I was not ready to be an adult, and to me 25 is the real age of adulthood. I had a 4 year old at that point, but I still wasn’t ready to be “grown”. My friends threw me a huge block party and my mom checked in regularly. It was that bad!
I made it through. Then came 30. That really wasn’t so bad. I had 2 little girls and I had told myself that if my then husband hadn’t straightened his shit out by then, I was leaving. I did it! The girls and I were alone, but I was grown and I felt empowered. I got my belly button pierced, I went out to a bar, and I WAS the dancing queen that night (if you’re singing Abba songs now…you’re welcome).
Then just before my 35th birthday, I met my husband. The man you know as B. The man I know as B, or baby, or call me maybe. The father of my 2 youngest children. That was a good year.
And the years have been flying by. There have been major ups, there have been major downs. But all the while, I’ve been living this life and trying to enjoy the little moments and trying NOT to dwell on all the bad crap.
So here I am. I’m seeing happy birthday messages on FB. My friends are awesome. I should feel happy. But today, this very birthday, is the day the birthday celebrations stop. Today, I cross the line. Today, I descend. Today is the first day of the 2nd half of my life.
We all have different ideas for mid life. B thinks he’s already hit it even though he’s ten years younger than me. I’m still in denial. It’s conceivable to live to 90. It’s actually common place. Therefore, 45 is middle aged. I was fine until this point.
Today, I head down the hill. I’m sad. I’m on the back side of over and out. I’m the mother of a 4 year old but my life is more than half way over. I hope to see my grandchildren born. I hope to live for another 45 years. I hope this feeling of sadness and depression (and feeling old as crap) fades.
I guess I should be happy that I made it over the hill. I have friends that have not been this lucky. BUT I’m saddened and just want to ignore the day (and the fact that I’m old as crap) completely.
So thank you if you wish me a happy birthday, but please don’t be offended if I don’t reply. I’m not happy about this and I’d much rather turn back the hands of time, like to 1980-something!
Unhappy birthday to me. Sorry to be such a negative pants here, but it is what it is. Nails in the coffin…I don’t feel as happy about this over the hill birthday as I’ve felt about those in the past. Next year will be better. I’ll have grown accustomed to “old age”. But for now, I pout. I’m old.
It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to.