But it went about like I expected. We did not celebrate. Same as we have done for the previous 8 birthdays. I have not celebrated a single one of them as much as I have want to.
His kids were not on board. One was busy with family obligations. The other I have no idea as I never got a response from him. Neither of my own kids called me. I did call one of them but I may as well not have. I went to my sister's and spent the afternoon with her. As with most of my life she is my best friend and the one and only person that understands and actually cares. But for some reason I don't even talk to her about all of this. It's like beating a dead horse at this point. But I still enjoyed our time together.
By the actual day, most of my funk had played out the previous two weeks. The first day of March the "mood" starts and it goes on until the actual birthday and then it's like its behind me and I'm okay again for a while.
Today is Sunday. My typical "cry" day and though I am not in the best place emotionally I don't feel like crying today. I think because I've done so much for the past two weeks. I've just been a grouch. Suffering from a case of activity burn out and I think clinical depression. I think I need those happy pills back that I let go of three years ago.
I've had another story published. So I guess that's something positive. I am making a half effort to write a little. I've had no interest in it but after 8 long years of silence, I've submitted and they have published three stories now. I am trying desperately to get out of this downward spiral I've been in for the last several months. I don't know what happened to the things I used to enjoy. Photography, writing, crochet, cooking...now I just sit, I eat everything that gets in my way and I still can't sleep. I watch way too much TV --something I have never done. And I've tried different things to see if maybe I can spark interest in something new. I've tried volunteering, and church work again, I've taken design classes online, we bought a camper and have tried camping again after many years, I've tried reading a few old classics again, visiting botanical gardens. I have enjoyed them, all of them for a bit but not enough to keep me out of the weeds. I think I desperately need someone to talk to. I've never been without friends to talk to and share burdens with. Bounce stuff off of, give me fresh perspectives, get me out of my head etc.
Friends matter to me. They always have. We all need people. We were made to be social creatures; we need to have someone to share our successes as well as our burdens. Successes are all the sweeter when shared with someone you care about and the weight of your burdens are cut in half when they are shared. And I've always, always had friends and confidantes. That is also now missing from my life like hobbies and goals - I've shoved them out or grief has shoved them out. I am systematially cutting everything from my life and as of this weekend church may be on the chopping block. That scares me. I've tried desperately to make a close friend at church. I've gone out of my way to the point of becoming what I feel is a pest. But the relationships are just shallow and superficial. Its really difficult to make close intimate friends at this age. Everyone is kind of over it. They have their friends and no one wants to invest the time or emotion it takes to create new ones. I keep praying God will send me someone. I thought I'd found someone I could bond with in my nextdoor neighbor and less than two years into the relationship - she died! Died. Mesotheleoma. And come to think of it I guess I have a right to be a little depressed I've lost twelve people from my life since 2020 and my sister-in-law is dying with bone cancer now. All of that would be hard on anyone in any state of mind.
It will get better. Maybe. Somehow I don't quite have the same conviction that I did five years ago when I say that. But I keep praying it will. If you pray, please pray for me in that.
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