November

It’s Friday night, no actually it’s already Saturday morning. The week long holiday has flown by, and yes, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I don’t regret not having had plans. As someone said, it’s never going to be as bad or as good as you expect it to be.

***

Time has a way of sneaking up on you. It’s already November, a month I usually greet with a combination of anxious excitement, trepidation, a certain amount of denial and varying degrees of depression. It’s a month where every little detail of my life flashes before me in sharp relief. A time for questioning, for reflection, for taking stock.

The past few years, like clockwork, I descend into the pits of depression on the day when I should be celebrating the anniversary of my birth. Once it was soo bad it took all my willpower to hold back tears in public. It’s not about being afraid of getting older because while that is true it’s merely a matter of getting used to it. It is however because it’s the day when I feel most alone. And oh how it cuts like a knife!

Yes I have friends and family who wish me and celebrate, but it’s somehow lacking. I always end up feeling significantly less than special, knowing that I’m not the most important thing in their lives. Do I sound petty and self-absorbed? Shouldn’t I be grateful I have people who remember and are willing to make an effort? The thing is I do appreciate it, but at the end of the day when the party is over it’s the loneliness that remains. And it is this underlying feeling that permeates the day and infects everything with bitterness.

Will it be any different this year? I have hope, but am conditioned not to expect too much. Anyway, I’ll know soon enough.