Birthday Blues

It’s the birthday blues!

It’s no secret that I feel down before every birthday. I don’t know why but it has always been like that.

Perhaps, I can’t help but overthink about my life. Getting older… Did I accomplish anything noteworthy?

I’m thinking out loud and maybe self-sabotaging but what are my breakthroughs? For one, not a single zero was added to my account. Second, I am still trying to find my place in the world and lastly, I still stand here alone on earth wondering what exactly I’m doing.  These thoughts keep me grounded, other than almost always leave me unhappy.

I guess I’ve always thought about making it big. I’ve always thought of myself as a competent individual who can take challenges. I thought of these challenges as my preparations for the big things. So, when I allow myself to mull over my achievements, what have I accomplished really?

My sister told me, “Don’t be too hard on yourself”. Well, to be frank, I seem to allow myself to gloat days before my big day. I mull over details about my life that need improvement. For one, I am disappointed that I have not been able to finish law school. I made a vow to continue but going into the fine print, it’s easier said than done. I am up against overwhelming odds. Then there’s frustration over not reaching my maximum potential. I feel like I am just always mediocre and every birthday, I am reminded of that.

“You’ve achieved more than you think you know”, says my sister who tried to console me. But I don’t know, I feel like there’s still a lot more for me, and yet I am biding my time to play small. Despite my efforts, it feels like I’m shortchanged.

Am I being critical of myself? I guess.

Maybe before every birthday, I have this mental new birthday resolution that I keep track of, and I am displeased when nothing on that list gets ticked off. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate all the opportunities that have been offered. I appreciate the people who bridged me to my goals. Bless their hearts. But personally, there’s just this cloud of ideas hovering around my head telling me that I could do more. That I could be more.

Either way, as I said before, I am allowing myself to gloat, once a year. It just happens to be BEFORE birthdays. In the bigger picture though, birthdays are a testament to love. To be alive and kicking, that’s got to be the MORE of my more. 

Nah nay

“Who are you?”, My bedridden grandmother asked when my mom showed my face to her through a video call.

Behest the pang of sadness, I said: “It’s Lovely, your most beautiful apo”. She said, “How’s your mother doing?”

To which I laughed and said, “Oh she’s the one holding the phone and visiting you today.” She apologized and said, “I am old I cannot remember much.”

Making the conversation light, I joked. “It’s fine, as long as you remain beautiful ”. She then told me things that broke my heart. She said, “Please call me all the time while I am still alive. I know I am being a burden to my children because I am sick and weak. I pray that God will take me soon, so I do not add any more burden than I already do.”

I maintained a cheerful face even though my heart got crushed into tiny million pieces. We bid our goodbyes, but her words were looping on my head. I mulled over life in general. I thought about how my grandmother had always been full of life when I was growing up. She loved beautiful things. She liked eating out. She liked simple and grand pleasures, all the same.

Seeing her now, weak and feeling desolate, I felt indescribable gloom and panic. I am shaken.

It is difficult to appear cheery when the reality and the gravity of the situation swallow the little hopes of wellness and quality of life that come with old age.