Just once I'd like to be wrong

Tomorrow is yet another fucking birthday. Every year, I know it is going to suck the big green weanie and every year I have this secret hope that I will be wrong and every year, I end up being disappointed because I am not wrong.

This year will be no different.

I have always been weird about my birthday because as a kid I never got what I wanted. I know that sounds shallow, but truly never. I wanted a barbie doll (a real one) and I got the cheap fake one without the bendy legs. I wanted a 5 speed bike and I got my neighbour's old no speed bike. I got handed down a lot from the older siblings, but we were not a family without means, and I really didn't ask for much. My 17th birthday was spent in bed because my father had spent the night before beating the shit out of his girlfriend, she and I escaped to the neighbour's and ended up being up all night. The good part about that birthday, my dad moved out and I didn't have to go with him.

I am the one who always makes sure that everyone else in my life has a kick-ass fabulous birthday celebration. I try and at least make sure I acknowledge everyone whose birthdate I know. Every year I make sure that the kids do something for the ex's birthday. Every year my birthday is 24 hours of feeling completely unloved and unimportant.

I don't like to be the centre of attention, so I don't want a big fuss made. I do want to be wished a happy birthday - a phone call or email works just fine. Last year I had 3 people remember my birthday. One of my four children, my mother and my sister (Feller managed to forget too).

This year is worse. There has been difficult stuff going on since June that is still unresolved. Rather than fight, I gave up and conceded. I stopped playing the game. Somehow, that made me the bad guy. What could have been fixed with an admission of guilt, an apology to me and an assurance that it won't happen again, is now out of control and as always, I am the one who is being pressured into capitulating. Just once, I would like someone to stick up for me and tell the other party to make it right. But that will never happen, so I guess I continue being the bad guy and get pushed from all sides.

There is no mail delivery tomorrow, so I've had all the cards I'm going to get. One - from my mother. My sister will send me an email tomorrow. We send each other gifts for our decade birthdays. I may get emails or facebooked tomorrow, but if this year is anything like last, I won't.

My whine-fest is now over. I will be miserable tomorrow and then back to my bright and sunny self until the next birthday rolls around.