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Yesterday was a mixed bag, it was a little harder than usual. Birthdays are hard for me anyway because I remember how many he's missed. Yesterday was the 22nd one. I end up nostalgic for his cooking, his baking. How I miss his brownie sheet cakes with extra chocolate frosting and sprinkles.

"Just one more birthday you're not physically here for."

I clung to my Snorlax plushie, my life raft in the torrential seas of my mind as thunder cracked and winds raged. I was a kid again wondering what the point of having a birthday was if my dad wasn't there to celebrate it with me. The thoughts turned darker, about how I never planned on having an 11th birthday because I had no plan on seeing it.

Or turning 12. Or 13. The finish line kept moving. 16. 18. 21. 25. 30. I never planned on making it this far. What was the point? I kept asking. What's the point if you're not here with me, physically with me? You should be. I screamed that last part in my head. You should be. It's not fair.

As I clung to Snorlax Aleks clung to me because he's known me long enough to know that my birthday is one of those days I hate because I end up drowning in emotions I still don't know what to do with, bailing water out of my tiny boat as I try to not capsize it. Morticia snuggled with me and purred as loud and as often as she could.

"What can I do to help you right now?"
I shrugged and tried to keep Snorlax dry.
"I don't know."
"Do you want your birthday tradition?"

Birthday tradition. It's hardly that, I haven't done this in a couple of years or maybe it's a few. The last time I really needed this was Lockdown, and I've been avoiding this because everything cuts too close to RL for me to find it enjoyable.

"Do you need him right now?"
I nodded. I had no strength left.

I mentioned that this birthday was a little harder than usual and that's because the grief I've been feeling is complicated, to say the least. The last year or so of my life has been if I'm honest. I didn't get anything from the parent I had left save for a note written on the white board. And that note hurt because of how it made me feel. Like I wasn't even worth the effort of writing a card out for.

So this isn't the first birthday without my mother. It's technically the second. It would've been the second anyway because I estranged myself from her. But it's different not because of that but because of the fact that she's dead. At least when they're alive you always have that hope that they'll see sense and reach out and things will be better, even though you know that won't happen.
Now you know for a fact it won't.

Aleks did switch from YouTube to Hulu and he did put my ultimate comfort show on. Weakly I hummed along to the opening theme even though I hate it because it brings back awful memories I won't be getting into in this entry. I recited all the lines but especially all of his and I called him "unhinged" when he laughed because, let's be fair, he is.

Most people, when they need a serotonin boost, they listen to good music or eat nice chocolate from Aldi they can't stop eating. They go for a run or they try a new cuisine. When I need a small boost that's exactly what I do (especially the Aldi chocolate part).

I needed a big boost. A huge boost. And I can only get that from one place.

"Omae wo korosu."
Like that I felt alive again. He gave me permission to live again 22 birthdays later.

I did have a nice birthday. One of my gifts came yesterday (a rainbow coloured pocket knife with a car window breaker and a seatbelt cutter) and the other is coming...today? Tomorrow? Whenever. My wife made dinner and dessert was ice cream instead of cake and it was my favourite flavour. Very low-key. I don't really want festivities when it comes to the day of my birth and that's probably more to do with not thinking I'm worth the trouble of planning things for than anything else.

After watching 5 episodes of Gundam Wing I feel more like myself. I'll watch more. Right now I'm watching Link go back in time after completing the Water Temple and lamenting over how I don't have that same power.

In my Home World you're gone and have been gone, but if I found a wormhole on a beach and possessed a special amulet letting me pass through it, I would try to find you.

404: motivation not found

hello from my bed, the one i've only left periodically today for reasons like needing the bathroom or going downstairs to the kitchen to scrounge for food only to just grab a banana and reluctantly scarf it down. my back hurts so I have to type this on my Chromebook from some really weird angle and I doubt downward dog is good for my neck in this situation but it's all we have

I have things I want to do like write and exercise and maybe actually have food but I have a big fat zero for motivation to actually do anything. we have leftovers but I would have to figure out what to do with said leftovers and yes, I realise I am awful at remembering things like eating more than just one medium sized banana and two bars of chocolate.

I tried writing fic because I have ideas for things, you know, but after two sentences my inspiration and motivation both die at the same time and though I try to keep going, it doesn't work and just ends up being word vomit and though Heero would be the type to have moments of just vomiting letters onto a page, I doubt that would be most of his writing. Heero in a lot of aspects is a lot more concise than me. I want him to talk about all the death in his life but the words dry up faster than I can write them, the pool completely gone leaving cracks in the clay leftover.

maybe I need a change in how I express myself. I used to use all sorts of media for this, not just words but also pictures. I used to use paint. I used to do watercolour. I wrote music composed on the keys of my piano where I would write down all the notes and the octaves before writing it on staff paper. and then tweak it and tweak it. I used to do collage but I left most of my magazine clippings behind because I didn't feel they were necessary. I can print pictures off the internet if I really want to.

grief sucks.

my wife's workplace knows nothing and I prefer it that way. I don't need her to tell me, "Alice and Susan wanted me to tell you they're sorry for your loss" and I don't know how to accurately describe how something like that makes me feel because did I really even lose anything? Is it a loss if I never had it? My mother died but I never had a mother, this archetypal figure who cradles babies to her bosom and sings sweet lullabies when you're a baby and is always there for comfort no matter how old you get is not what I was given.

one comment I read described losing your parents as a "rite of passage" that happens when you're older. define "older". I was 10 when I lost my father and 32 when I lost my mother. Is that "older"? Most people are in their 50s and 60s with both parents still. Is this something I'm supposed to check off Life's Checklist? Like how I was supposed to be married before 25 and have a house by 30?

another waxed poetic about how losing a mother is such an awful thing and mothers are a blessing and I have to resist the urge to laugh and say, "You've never met mine."

the assumption is that every mother is a good one.
the assumption is that I was just a bad kid somehow.
"I bet you miss her." No, I don't.
"I bet you regret not re-establishing contact with her." No, I don't.
Even if I did and even if I wanted to...what would that even accomplish?