Today is my 41rst birthday. BFD.

Big Fucking Deal.

My kid is fussy sick and spewing on me. Pardon me if my enthusiasm is contained.

I have a cold and I can;t get warm to save my life. I mean, psychotic shivering, it’;s not my norm and it’;s actually disturbing me. Because when I am cold, I shut down and the idea of the next 4 to 6 weeks underr a blanket shivering is as depressing as everything else.

I just…had a bad mental health day. I know, societal brainwashing dictates that once your reproductive organs have produced a spawn, you cease to exist as an individual and your only concern and purpose is to be The Parent. That;’s a crock of shit. Today was evidence. I love my kid madly, I do. But I’m still the same person I was before my uterus served its function and all those feelings bubbled up and over today. I mean, how is being puked on on your birthday not a little irritating? Not her fault, but also not mine. Plus I am in Cymbalta withdrawal (hello brain zaps) so I am on edge and emotional…. Usually I can be The Parent without a whole lot of self absorbed me-me-me-ism. Today was not that day. Today I just felt wmpy and weak and picked on and utterly devoid of any will to keep doing this life bit.

Never mind I got calls from all parental factions, my sister brought me cupcakes, Becca sang to me…No, when your brain chemicals are firing wonkily, not even good things are good. It’s all ass trash.

I’m 41 now.

Big fucking deal.

It’s been a miserable day and I have tried to get over myself but I think it’s just gonna require a brain reboot of sleep. Maybe things will feel differently tomorrow. When I’m not all tearful and feeling irrationally persecuted. Of course, with anti depressant withdrawal, this might be my norm for several weeks.

I’m trying to put a positive spin on that but it ain’t happening. It just sucks.

Maybe that means I have a bad attitude.




One Response to “BFD”

  1. I remember turning 41. I felt nothing. It was just the day after the day before. I wasn’t diagnosed until 50, so I was pretty out there. No, I was a maniac with my life in shambles. I think any mother who can go through what we do and tries to be a good mom – it’s great – but thinking of yourself, it’s got to come first or nothing’s any good – that’s just the way it is.. You are #1. And yeah, kid puke sucks. Maybe you can celebrate 41 another day. Sending good thoughts & wishes for your 41st year!

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