The Week

Ack!  It's finally here. I have several dreaded weeks of the year and this is one of them.

A couple weeks from now, hopefully I'll be able to look back at this week and only see a blur.  It can't possibly be a surprise that I hate it so much given all I've shared.  Sadly, I haven't even shared the worst.

This week, more than any other, I have that nagging thought..."Why was I even born?"  For as far back as I can remember, I have always wished April 26th had never happened.  I know that comes from year after year of being told that I should have never been born.

After sitting here for the past four hours with one birthday memory after another creeping through my head, I know that question is looming again this year.  Why? Why was I born? 

My parents didn't want me.  In fact, most of my family didn't want me.  They still don't want me.  It's been over five years since I've had any substantial contact with any of my family.  I didn't hatefully sever ties with any of them.  I didn't make a formal statement that I would never contact them again.  They just never contacted me again.  It's an easy conclusion that they still don't want me.

My birthday is one of those times when it's incredibly apparent that they never have cared.  I have three grandparents, two parents, two brothers, one sister-in-law, two nieces, two nephews, four uncles, four aunts, twelve cousins and numerous great-whatevers.  Outside of an ex-aunt, not one of them contacts me...ever!

So, if my family doesn't care and doesn't want me, why was I born?  I don't have kids and I'm more of a hindrance for my husband than a partner.  Really, I am someone he has to take care of, not live life with and I create a fair amount of worry for him.  I don't really make any significant contribution to anyone or anything.  I don't have a job and I spent most of my time feeling fairly useless.

It's an awful feeling, but it is all true.

As far back as junior high, I can remember attempting to end my life in one way or another during the week of my birthday each and every year.  That is how strong those feelings get in me.  Even last year was no exception. 

Two days after my birthday last year, I sat contemplating my own demise over a bottle of nail polish remover, a bottle of aspirin and a tube of super glue. 

Believe me, it isn't the way I want life to be at all.  I don't want it to be that way now either.  As the day gets closer, I can't help but feel like this year is going to be much the same.  I just hate it!