Birthdays are horrible now. They were never celebrated as kid and not much as adult-but made some good traditions with friends and celebrating each others birthdays with lunch or dinner and some fun things.
Dec. 4 2008 I turned 50 and I went shopping and to dinner with a friend. I have a nice picture of the 2 of us and I look so happy and healthy. Eight days later, I was assaulted in my home. The tree was already up and the house decorated but Christmas came to a screeching halt. With all the pain meds, xanax, muscle relaxers, etc, and nightmares, I overdosed on Dec. 29th after Christmas being pretty much of a blur.
I suffer severe since of foreshortened future, and every year when it rolls around, I remember 2008, my last ptsd free celebration. I dread my birthday as well as Christmas, but it is my birthday that makes me reflect on the past year and wonder why I am still here. I never expect to make it to the next year and then -here I am. I have cut myself off from all family and most friends, and have no desire for any type of celebration. We are either busy living or dying, and I feel like I have been dying since. I am working hard to turn that around. I have no fear of death but I do fear suffering, and only pray to have a heart attack in my sleep.
The dread begins when I hear others beginning Thanksgiving plans. I cooked every year since I was 20 and had many guests. I haven't cooked since and spent a few in bed alone without food. It doesn't end until the Christmas lights are down-around Feb., but then suffer the winter slump.
I have that birthday picture on my Facebook page in attempt to find that smiling face again, that happy go lucky, spontaneous and loving mother, sister, friend. Only in the past few months have I began to discovered the tender hearted person that I am inside.