The time of year is approaching which makes me want to retreat within myself as opposed to being amongst real life. I want to shut my blinds, keeping the sunlight out. I want to see, but not be seen. I don’t want to exist in anyone’s life for fear of somehow disappointing them with my lack of being present. My birthday is in eight days and I always want to be a little selfish during this time. There were times when I wanted everyone I knew, or that knew me, to reach out to me and acknowledge the day that I was born. I wanted so desperately to feel special, not necessarily the center of anyone’s attention, but to simply have their attention for a moment would suffice. Like nearly everything else, I’ve thought about what could cause me to think this way or want this and I’ve narrowed it down to a handful of things.

I was asked if I disliked being the fifth out of five birthdays in the family that happen between late September and the middle of October and I said no, that it didn’t really matter to me. That wasn’t always the case. I used to feel like everyone had to rally to celebrate my birthday because even I felt like I had to. It didn’t help that I grew up poor. Some birthdays were also spent with Gayle without my mom around. There are many factors.

There were years that I actually looked forward to celebrating myself and that’s because I was with someone who did a lot for me. The first birthday I spent with my ex while we were together, she took me out to dinner and surprised me with tickets to New York. We flew out the Friday following that dinner and stayed for a day and a half. We went to several touristy places and though I was exhausted and we were dead broke after it, I look back at that trip incredibly fondly. The act of someone doing something for me, something I’d never done for myself, really sat with me. I felt special, you know?

It’s funny how things change. Three years following that trip, I was laying in my sister’s room crying about the state of my life. The person who’d done so much to make me feel so many wonderful things had done something that hurt me in a way I didn’t think possible. Very naive of me. She’d texted me about needing something from the apartment, that a package was accidentally delivered there and that she was going to come by and grab it. It was my birthday and she’d not said happy birthday, because why would she have? We’d decided we’d be filing for divorce only a few days before via video chat during our second of two couple’s counseling sessions. We were no longer friends and she had no reason to want to make me feel special. It hurt. If I think about it for too long, I can still feel that heaviness in my chest. Sigh.

Years have passed since then and I’ve remembered ways in which I make myself feel seen and held so that I don’t subconsciously go searching for others to make me feel that way. This time of year is a subtle reminder that I don’t really like myself all that much. I think if I liked myself more, I’d do things that made me happy, not just content. I think I’d make more of an effort to write for myself. I don’t journal as much as I should. I spend a lot of time distracting myself. Watching shows or listening to music while scrolling through my phone for hours a day during the little free time I have is causing me to disconnect from myself in ways I don’t like.

In an effort to get back to myself, I’ve been going for jogs a few times a week. I don’t have a set routine in this, but I’m alright with that for now. I go when I’m feeling outside of myself and feeling my body go through the phases of achieving a runner’s high is what I appreciate most.

I’m dreaming more than I have in years and I’m still getting used to how to retain them for more than the first few moments in the morning. I’m sure the easiest way to solve this is to write them down once I wake up, but the mind is a tricky thing. I need to condition it to not grab my phone the moment my eyes open. Baby steps.

It’s time for me to sign off and greet the work week. I’m actually looking forward to this distraction.

Until next time.