thirty two.

Whew, this has been a week.  I don't like birthdays.  And I know a lot of people

say

 that, but like, I really don't like birthdays. 

I was brushing my teeth on Monday and I thought 'this week I will turn 32' and I burst into tears.  I actually teared up while writing that exact sentence.  

Birthdays bring up a lot of really old, weird feelings.  I didn't have amazing birthday's growing up.  Some were filled with drama, a lot were filled with 'We can't afford to do anything for your birthday', most were lonely.  Others were over the top, while my little brain wondered how they were being paid for.  Certain years I have pushed so far back into my brain that I don't have recollection of them anymore.  

Basically, this one day brings up the 'feelings - vomit' that is: pure dysfunction.    

While I was sobbing into Andrew's very confused arms on Monday, I felt so incredibly guilty.  We had just snuck away to one of my favorite places - Palm Springs - for a last minute, sun soaked weekend.  We had an amazing time, and then I am crying 12 hours later.  Selfish.  

I am grateful for all that I have, but this birthday / getting older thing I can live without.  

So, here I am

32

.  And I feel it.  I am getting wider, getting wrinklier and tired.  merp.  

So, with all that being said - I sobbed, and with most of my thoughts out on paper and now I am MOVING ON. 

This new process of writing been extremely therapeutic and scary to me but I think it's all G O O D.  I pray I don't piss people off, I hope I don't offend anyone and I genuinely long to help someone.  Just one person even.  Maybe this is my plan - a sign - for age 32 and beyond.  

So, as I begin my 33rd year on this earth, I am so grateful for the support and listening to me. 

Cheers.