State of Mind at Nearly 45 Years of Age

Posted on February 13, 2003 in Depression Milestones

Pass your cursor over my darkness and see what comes to light.

Too much stuff on my mind: a birthday on Saturday, Tuesday’s extraction, a potluck for writers on the following Saturday, court a week from Monday, and a critique of my short story that same night.

Birthdays are best forgotten. No party as usual. I tried throwing one for myself, once, and no one came. Lynn forgot it the first year of our being together and we had a date that night. Everyone got a cake in the places where I worked except for me most years. I don’t remember hearing anyone else warning that their birthday was coming. A page went out and the cake appeared in the conference room for them.

I don’t need or want to hear about the way I set myself up for failure. I don’t buy that explanation. I don’t want to hear that I am really lovable. I’d rather think neutral thoughts, that loneliness happens on this day just because it does. No platitudinous pulling of threads or denials of other’s obliviousness move me.

I prefer to approach Saturday like a freight train pulling into the yard — slowing as I prepare to release the couplers holding me to the baggage of a left year. Silently, I will move in, drop the cars, and start up for time’s next destination.

This could be reprinted with only the change of the first paragraph. It could be my personal “Dear Virginia” letter for the season.

God bless those who are my friends and forget me. Every time, every year.