Yet another therapy blog.
by, 10-Jan-2014 at 23:24 (340 Views)
This is yet another of my self help, venting and "musing" in order to organize my thoughts and help move myself from the dark funk that I have been in for several weeks. Therefore this is a warning to any reader that the following is my own thoughts and feelings and only intended to help myself and not change any content or believes of anyone or any thing.
Over the last month I have been logging on to this group to view the happenings and looking for the happiness and relief that I felt the day I log in the first time.
Today is my 52 birthday and I am not feeling like a little boy that is so excited about cake and presents. I am in more of feeling like a grumpy old man.
The one thing that I still feel every year is the fact that I have never had "a birthday party". Oh I have had birthday parties every year but my ones from my youth were watching my mom make my cake and getting to lick the frosting off the beater blades, then having to go "play" until everyone got home. We would eat dinner, my father would yell at someone, then me would have cake, open up my gifts of one toy and socks and a shirt, then get sent to bed. A few times I got taken out for breakfast after church on Sunday. I would get excited because the loud speaker at the restaurant would announce that it was my birthday. After we moved to Oregon I would get sent out to do chores by myself, and when I would come in 2-3 hr. later there would be gifts that my brothers would watch me open. I would get a book to read (my mothers way of dealing with my Dyslexia), a science type thing (which I always liked) and Socks and a new shirt.
The one year I think I was 11 I got a bag of polished rocks and a book on classification of rocks. I wanted to take it up stairs and go through the rocks but my hands were so numb (It was 25 outside and I had the start of hyperthermia). My dad chewed me out for spilling the %*&^% things all over the floor. That is when my mom realized that I was so cold.
Another year that I remember s fondly is my 12th birthday and my father taught me about coin collecting. I got a book on coins and a peanut can full of pennies. He actually spent the afternoon with me and we looked at his collection I was always getting in trouble for getting into them and looking at them. (I inherited it and felt so ashamed when we were robed and they took 99% of the collection.)
My 14th birthday involved "the talk" I got a shaving kit and a Playboy puzzle that I had to put together with my mother while I heard how evil girls are and all they want to do is get catholic boys in trouble and take there money. Thus the reason I had such a hard time talking to girls and getting into any kind of relationship until I was 43.
Now I know that women only get evil once a month and the best way to deal with it is through chocolate and go hide in the shop for a week.
Unfortunately I have to leave so I will either edit this when I come back or make a sequel post.