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Friday, 9 June 2017

Thoughts on 'Days'

It’s my birthday in two days. I was hoping Labour would win as an early birthday present; instead it's a Hung Parliament which I find funny. The Tories have lost support, Labour have gained support; hopefully in three years when there's another general election Labour will come up tops. Who knows what'll happen now.

I’m going to be twenty. Twenty sounds like a nice age. The end of my teens and harum-scarum emotional instability. I’ve managed to make it to twenty in one piece, and I think a lot of that is to do with counselling and AA, especially the latter.

I’m not really into birthdays. I stopped getting excited for them at fourteen. They're a day that’s supposed to be perfect but never will be, like your wedding day. When you’re a child, birthdays (and Christmas) are this fun novelty; when you get older they become meh. People say ‘but it’s a day all about you!’ and I think; everyday of my life is about me. Who else would it be about? I don’t have children and I’m with myself 24/7.

I get anxious when it’s my birthday, but things usually go smoothly. Last year the day before my 19th I was sitting in a pub drinking jack and cokes and complaining to the bartender about being depressed and concerned about my future and going to ACM and feeling unhappy with my boyfriend and feeling lonely and god knows’ what else. I remember telling her I was a high-functioning alcoholic, and she was just looking at me and nodding like she’d heard it all before. It was about one in the afternoon, and there were only three or four other people in there.

My actual 19th went well; me and the then-boyfriend went to lunch; later my cousin came from out of London and me her and my closest girl friend went dancing at this bar called The Blues Kitchen in Camden. I vowed that would be the last day I would touch alcohol. I made it (for two months). That was before I went to AA. (So far the longest time I’ve managed to stay sober for is four months; I’m currently three months and that’s also including weed.)

A lot of people love birthdays and aren't as pessimistic as I can be. They think ‘hooray! It’s the holidays! Celebrate good times come on!' I don’t hate birthdays; not overly fond of them but I don’t
hate them. However, the other national holidays get on my nerves. Mothers day; Father’s day, Valentine’s day, Halloween, Bank Holiday, New Year’s Day. They all seem like pointless celebrations that are a way for major corporations to make money. Shops are piled high with cards and balloons and custom-made gifts.

On the other hand, I’ve always liked New Year. Growing up it was fun because we had a family tradition of banging on drums and strumming our guitars and making lots of musical noise as the fireworks exploded. One year (entering 2014) I was really pissed off because I wanted to go out with a friend of mine but my parents wouldn’t let me because...well that’s a whole-nother story. My mum said it would probably be the last new year’s we’d be all together (my parents are now separated) and apparently I’d been going out ‘a lot’ in the past few weeks and my parents were sort of strict with me going out anyway not to mention my social life was already meh...I dunno. But whatever.

The following New Year I was with my cousin and her then-boyfriend (neither of them were getting on well) and I got super drunk (before I realised I had a problem) and acted like an idiot in front of all her boyfriend’s friends and felt super tired and got put to bed by my cousin at half eleven. I probably had the best night; most of them spent it scrubbing red wine off the carpet. I just stood there, wasted and sleepy and out of it. Then I woke up around half four and everyone was saying happy new year to one another. Then I woke up again at one in the afternoon. I was pretty sleepy cos I’d just come back from a Christmas spent with family in Berlin and had gone straight to my cousin's from London.

The New Year after that was pretty fun; I was with the same cousin and her friends and we were at this awful bar but were so drunk it was fun, and I forgot about how depressed I’d been feeling and that I was dropping out of York and just had a good time. The last New Year (entering 2017) was my favourite; I spent it with family and after being pissed two New Years in a row it was nice to be sober. A family party; dancing to good music. I’m one of those people that doesn’t need to drink to have a good time; alcohol makes me have a worse time because within hours I’m puking down the loo and wishing I was dead.

This is very anecdotal and spontaneous. To come back to my original point, I think people place a lot of pressure on these ‘days’ needing to be super special. Sometimes you can have a wonderful day that isn’t Christmas or Halloween or your birthday; it’s just a lovely day. Women drive themselves crazy trying to have the perfect wedding day that they forget to enjoy it. As long as you’re with good people you love and care for, and trying to make the best of things, that’s what is important. Yes, Valentine’s Day is full of shit because it’s a way for major corporations to make money and make single people feel sad and lonely. Christmas and New Year are the highest times for suicide. Mother’s and Father’s Day annoy me because they make me feel like I’ve been a bad daughter for the other 364 days. You don’t need a ‘day’ to tell someone you love them. You just need a day; no quotation marks.

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