Let’s talk about Birthdays shall we.
I’m going to be honest with you all. I don’t like my birthday. In fact that is usually the day in which I am most depressed. This year was so bad I spent a week prior to and a week after just depressed. I wasn’t eating like I normally do, I wasn’t sleeping right. Half the time I was on my computer I wasn’t even surfing the net or writing or even working on my comic. I would just sit in front of the backlit monitor and stare at it for a like an hour at a time before retreating downstairs to sit with my wife while I listened to the TV she was watching.
Lots of people see birthdays as a celebration, but I do not. As obsessed as I personally am with Immortality I know I have yet to achieve it and until I do my years on this Earth are limited. Each Birthday is nothing more than another year ticked off the clock. But it would seem, that Birthdays are something that transcends race, creed, and nationality. Every culture in this world seems to celebrate the day someone was born with gifts and a form of celebration. But why? Why a party? Why gifts?
My biggest problem stems from the party and gifts really. Unless you did something that affected man kind or even just a community in a positive way, why should we go out of our way to celebrate your birthday? Can it not just be another day? What about my existence has earned me a party every time I manage to survive another 365 days? As for the gifts I am like this; if you see something you think I would like and would like to buy it for me THEN BUY IT AND GIVE IT TO ME! Don’t wait until the one day on the calender when you feel obligated to do so. Further more if you’re only getting me a gift because the calender says this is the day you get me a gift, then don’t bother. Because then it’s not something you’re doing from the heart, but rather out of some deep seated traditional guilt trip. These days I try not to let anyone make a big deal out of my birthday. When asked what I want I usually say “nothing” or “to go about it like any other day.” Of course my mother and wife still tell me happy birthday and get me gifts. I expect that as my existence does have meaning to them, but even from them the mere words “Happy Birthday” just send a pang through my body.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m alone in this or if there are others out there that wish we could just not make a big deal of the anniversary of our births. Sorry about the rant. Just had to get that off my chest.
-Contributed by Matthew Slade