It’s the 10th of September today, which always means it’s 8 days to my birthday. And this year, more than any other year I can remember feels so faraway from where I was.
My birthday, in my own uber-narcissistic worldview, has always been a kind of a magical time to celebrate. Next to Christmas, my birthday is the only time when I succumb to such magical thinking. Both only come two times a year. And hell, you can get away with a lot so long as you say it’s soon your birthday, right? “It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to.” That’s a useful trick up your sleeve as you get older and need a reason for all the glitter and shinnies, after all. Though I hardly ever need a reason for glitter and shinnies. I’m a GD addict. (Sorry for the swearing, again, Gma. But you see – it’s almost my birthday and all.)
A magical time of year for me and a sense that who I was & where I was this time last year are nowhere similar – yet everywhere similar. As my dad likes to say, no one ever really changes after a certain age. But I think it’s more like you change in tiny ways that maybe you are the only who’s aware of.
I feel different than last year. Slightly. Oh it’s no giant I’m suddenly so wise kinda bullshit. I’ve never been one for the syrupy stuff. (See my sudden need to swear? Always a sign I’m feeling the need to shrug off some emotionally touchy crap. 😜) but I feel different. I’ve basically spent a whole year being more a recluse than I already was. I barely went out of the house at all. I spent these last months trying to find my centre in a world I couldn’t make sense of. It’s been great for my glow in the dark tan.
After Deej’s death, it was more than tough to see the world go on without him. And I didn’t want it to. I had no patience for people and their pettiness. Not that I was ever known for my tolerance for that. But I couldn’t handle the world anymore. I couldn’t write about anything other than grief. I couldn’t relate. And some part of me knew that in order to not disconnect entirely I had to cocoon for a long time. And it has been a long time. And I have to thank all of you who have stood by me during it.
It was months of watching Netflix, playing with Goo. Fighting with my emotions, denying my feelings, than accepting them. And more importantly, accepting that I have emotions periods. Bleh. Trips back home which were sorely needed and that I’m forever grateful for. And a repeat trip to Toronto to remind that at the core I am the same uber epic Nette I’ve always been. Loads of skittles and impulses indulged. Whatever got me through the day. And some days felt like years. Which is probably why I feel so far from this time last year. All things considered in a good way.
I don’t feel like I drag the past around with so much anymore. You have to take it with you -your past- sure, but you don’t have to let it define you. Being unable to bring Deej back, that staggering unalterable fact made me face that the absence I feel and will always feel for him means I owe to myself & him to fill my future with as much GD happiness as I can find. Because in mourning him, I was also mourning the transition from childhood to adulthood.
It’s not all I’m a grownup now crap, neither. Because I’m not. I don’t anyone is unless they’ve given up on fun. I will be 99 and still wearing glitter, and still eating skittles, and still swearing like a sailor, and still dyeing my hair rainbow colours – because that’s what’s fun for me. That’s what I like to do. There’s maybe more responsibilities now than there was when I was a child. But I still want shiny things and happy times in my days. I think we all want that.
But you can’t go back, eh? And why should we want to even if we could? Unless to see the people we’ve lost. You’re meant to go forward with time being just as unstoppable a force as gravity. You can’t beat it unless you’re willing to become a black hole – becoming so dense as to suck up all the light around you and to literally bend time/space with your gravity. Turns out I’m not willing to be a black hole. So I let go. That’s the only way really. Let go and be a star. Blah blah blah syrupy crap. Sorta. But true.
It’s eight days to my birthday. And it’s a magical time even more so this year. I’m going eat all the desserts. Wear all the glitter. Share all my shiny moments with my friends and family. Because I’m surrounded by magical people who make my life one giant messy bunny in a top hat trick. And I’m GD grateful for you guys. Truly. It’s been years of days that I’ve survived. And I’ve been gone a long time from the world. But it’s 8 days to my birthday and there’s so much to celebrate for. And about. And who needs a reason to indulge themselves? I sure as hell don’t.
xoxoxo
GD, rambly post, eh?
Cheers & Many blah blah Salutations,
❤ Nette