Birthdays

**Warning, this post discusses suicide which may be triggering for some. If you are feeling suicidal, please call your local crisis line or take yourself to the nearest emergency room.**

Birthdays have always been really big in my world. As a perpetually single girl, it really is the one occasion that celebrates me. Some of my best memories come from my birthdays. My 19th with my dad dying but my friends still took me drinking at the sub, my 29th is Paris alone but soaking in the greatest of the city, my 35th at Darcy's where the entire world showed up to celebrate with me, and my 40th, low key with family and friends but lovely none the less. My birthday is always a little bittersweet, the high of it followed by grief. My Dad died 2 days after my 19th birthday. In fact, the last words he ever said to me were "Happy Birthday" just hours before he died. I have a birthday card from him where you could tell it took all his energy to sign it.

So, I have always celebrated big...and grieved big each February. But last year was different. Last year, my 43rd birthday, I had just been released from the psych ward after my suicide attempt. I had been released for barely a week and it was time to celebrate. Celebrate what though? Honestly, I was pissed I was alive to celebrate. I was angry my overdose wasn't successful. I was ashamed that everyone now knew how sick I was. And I didn't want to celebrate. At least not in a big way. My stepmom took my to the Keg for Billy Miner pie. And we talked. And that was enough for me.

And now, it's that time of year again. My birthday approaches, I've spun around the sun another time. And this past year, I've grown but it's really been tough. The pandemic, the loss of friends, the isolation, the hard work of DBT, it's all quite exhausting. And even if I wanted to celebrate this year, I cannot do it in a traditional way. We are only to socialize with our households at the moment, so I have cake man (who has his kids that weekend) or my best gay buddies. And I'll definitely do dinner with them that weekend, but what to do to mark the day? A virtual gathering? Time alone? Movies? Am I up for that? To be honest, there still is a large part of me that has to fight to stay alive. Maybe it'll just be me, some sparkling wine, and something from the patisserie. I know what I'd really like, but you shouldn't wish for things that will never happen. Happy birthday Cass.