Like many people, I don't love my birthday. “fragapanophobia” is a fear of birthdays. But can you really have a birthday phobia?
Here I am, sitting by the pool in the Hamptons, which is very fortunate. I wanted to get out of the city, and I did. I drove myself over here and haven’t left the house much. I don’t want to. I have a lot of writing and recovery work to do. The beach is here. The pool is here. I bought groceries. So I’m set up. But something is still off. My mood is still unstable and I’m crying a lot. I brought a friend out here, who mirrors me in some ways. She’s leaving later and I can’t tell how that will feel. Maybe it’s good to be alone. I’m also moving to a house right on the beach and I think I want that. I want to look out at the ocean. But I have to pack up all my stuff again first. I know, that’s a minor issue. I’m just thinking of the things that worry me and that’s one of them. I wish I could give myself a break. I’m thinking about the next few months and what I should do. Should I leave NYC for a while? Or should I stay and deal with all the things I need to without more planning and distraction. I want to find a tribe and just be with them, nonstop. I want to be with tod again. I want I want I want. I also want to make money. Lots of money. The rough draft of my book is almost done. I wish I could stay in the Hamptons all summer. I hope the right opportunities will find me. I’m leaving it up to god and just going to try my best to manifest good things. And think positively. I’m grateful to be 39 and be in good health. I’m attractive. I’m a good friend. I care about people. I’m sensitive. I see butterflies around me and feel like they are protecting me. I’m deeply connected to nature. What a process it is to know oneself and then love that self. It feels like it’s just beginning for me.
Some people who hurt me wrote me birthday messages. That was challenging. I guess I would have preferred not to hear from them. Because then I had to respond. What is it about a birthday? What is it?