41 and counting

It's my birthday. Every year I expect to feel different, not different in the "I'm a year older sense", just differently about my birthday. And every year, no matter how much I try to get excited or embrace this day, I end up just overall uncomfortable about it all.

I can't even remember how long I've disliked this day. It isn't that I don't appreciate and value my life and all I have, I just can't shake the antsy, out of sorts feelings I always have. I love other people's birthdays. Celebrating and acknowledging their day is exciting and something I look forward to. But not my own.

I don't want my children to feel badly or pick up on whatever strange quirk this dread of my own day is. My mother tries hard to make the day special, and as a parent I completely understand why. I could not imagine either one of my sons feeling as I do on the day of their birth. It would hurt beyond words and I would feel as though I failed them. 

This year I attempted to mentally psych myself up for a day of relaxation, but in the end I have only felt like I'm going through the motions with this pit of anxious stress in my stomach. I have no qualms about my age, I like where I'm at. I love my life for all the wonderful people in it. What is the issue then? Why would I rather just skip the day altogether and pick up with life as usual tomorrow? 

Friends and family have always attempted to help me embrace the day by wishing me well and surprising me in various ways to celebrate me, and that awful antsy feeling never leaves me. No matter how much I try to focus on feeling what everyone else seems to feel. 

I am not a person to feel sorry for myself or have a list of woe-is-mes, so how uncomfortable I feel makes no sense to me. I have literally spent the day trying to enjoy getting my nails done and having lunch with a friend, but anxiously fidgeting internally instead. 

As a child I remember at some point feeling guilty, burdensome about the day. My mother's first husband (I refuse to call him anything else) always managed to create stress and I suppose I interpreted that as somehow being a fault of mine. When I went into labor the day before my birthday, I remember praying that my child would be born on another day so that he would have his own day. In truth I suppose I wanted to ensure I would never feel the anxiety I have on my birthday on his special day. And I can remember my ex-husband always starting an argument or a fight on this day, and ultimately tossing or throwing my card/gift at me.

In 41 years, I cannot distinctly remember truly enjoying my birthday without any emotional discomfort. I can embrace and celebrate life, family and friends, but not the anniversary of my start in this world. I wish I could understand so that I could find a way to change this. Every day is a gift, yet I can't be at peace with this one. It's ridiculous and completely senseless.