Birthday post

Happy birthday to me. I want to write this to document how thankful I am to be here today – with mental health. If I look back to the last 15 months since my mother died, I’m thankful that I’m cognizant of how much I have because I valued none of it last year. I hated my life, my friends, my family and my reality because I couldn’t deal with my mothers death. Nobody could get me out of my funk. Nobody could show my life was worth enjoying. I’ve never known to want to die and I know what that feels like.

I’m thankful to many people and many things along the way. Many were hard knocks. Some were nurturing and shoulders to cry on. But everything contributed to feeling like I’ve come through the worst of it. Have I learned all my lessons? Probably not. I’ve learned some though. One hard one was I can’t ever trust how i feel. So i should stop thinking about it so much. And just, fucking let it go. Everything. Let it go. Letting go never felt better. Holding onto so much rage was exhausting. I still have it. That anger won’t die. But it is there for good reason now so i don’t forget the lessons. And I do almost everyday.

So from my last birthday till now it’s been a long year. A long year of rage and sadness. Where will I be next year?

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Feb 4 2019

Kicked off the week with a cold run on what was actually an unseasonably warm day in Pittsburgh in February. Haven’t been in the throes of winter for a while during the bday week. Last year we had gorgeous weather in Texas and I took the day off for a hike with the hubs. This year no such luck though, we did get in a snow tubing fun day out on Saturday. I wanted to go skiing but it didn’t work out. So I was itching to go out and run. Well, the weekend progresses like it usually does. And the earliest I could get out was Monday morning. A balmy 38F, with a fog lifting from the sudden onset of heat, and the snow melting but not yet. The ice not wanting to run off into the earth. The fog fighting with the sun and losing out. It was a beautiful morning for a run in Pittsburgh.

My mother’s death turned 15 months old today. And I am grateful I am so much better than I was a year ago on this day. Dreading my looming birthday and not knowing how I’d face the day I was born in the face of her death. I’m still throttling at the thought of my birthday. How can my birthday still roll around when she’s not around? Some things in my head still don’t compute. It just doesn’t make sense.