I don’t really know how I feel about my birthday anymore. I rarely ever celebrate it any longer because it seemed no matter how long in advance or how simple, any kind of thing I have planned to do has fallen to shit. I’ve had some epic failures on this day over the years for sure! Last year was an absolute joke.
The one place I have been very blessed though is with all the incredible people I get to share my birthday with.
-Bretney (She is a Nelson face to me I have seen around town for years, but only just met last year.
Two years ago, an old friend, Tagon had her baby Niall on December 3rd. Everyone I share my birthday with that I know of are all kick-ass girls. Nially is the first boy. Yeaaah buddy!
A new friend I had met during summer of last year is Clancy. She is a pretty amazing person too. Kind and caring, and does a bunch of work with children through camps she holds. She is also a really talented artist who has published a couple books. When I found out we shared the same birthday as well I was pretty psyched. A few times throughout the year we had spoken about connecting on our birthday somehow. Even given my history of birthday collapses, I was looking forward to celebrating with her.
I’ve had a real messed up 12 months that has definitely left me off kilter. Two months ago I was offered a kind treatment though. It ended up being pretty intense on my body as it left me out of sorts for 4 or 5 days, and then from there my body began to fall to shit.
I’ve had stretches of time where I had a lot of trouble lifting my right leg to walk. (It’s far too complex to properly describe.) Many times I have had to catch myself from collapsing because some part of my leg would just stop working. I’ve had days where I get these pains in my chest with an elevated heart rate and light headedness. The pains in my traps that travel up through my neck and come to rest in my skull have been searing in very disturbing manner. The insides of my stomach have taken a lotta focus to deal with, and then my hernia has been hurtin’ like mad too. Over the past couple weeks both of my shoulders have made it hard for me to lift my arms too well. Pulling covers over me in bed takes a lot of focused concentration with some dug in grit. It hurts so bad to lie on either of them, and then to try to lift them to pull my blankets across me is something I can stand doing. It hurts that badly. I’ve been overly exhausted too, but I guess that goes without saying.
It’s always a curiosity as to what is gonna make my body take a nosedive. It can be the tiniest thing from a sneeze or reaching to turn a lamp on. (*As a side note, on Wednesday I saw the absolute tiniest sneeze of all time from one of the girls I work with. It was the cutest thing ever, and I instantly told her so.) This time around it appears that this treatment was the catalyst for my body sayin’, “Fuck it!” for who knows how long. I’m gonna go back for another one, but I ride this out first or at least register how it’s gonna be if I am to stay this way for some years to come.
Every day has been long and terrible on so many levels though. I toughen up for work, but I seem to let it all out on my days off and cave into it for the most part if I really need to.
I’ve been absolutely terrible at messaging with people and such as well recently too. I don’t know why, but the two seem to fall hand in hand.
It was because of that that I hadn’t seen a message from Clancy and an invite from her for her party that Jana was hosting yesterday. I saw the message and event invite a day or two before. I was excited. I responded that I was gonna go for sure.
Clancy’s party was in my head all day long on Friday. I always love seeing Jana and Maya (Jana's daughter), and a bunch of the super kind people who I knew were gonna be there…and yes…Clancy too of course.
Saturday didn’t start off too bad, but it turned out to be a terrible day for me. As the day progressed I felt worse and worse. Regardless of my body I still wasn’t ready to give up on heading to town. In the early afternoon I started getting that pain in my chest and light headed. (My heart rate was good though.) The inside of my stomach started to really hurt, and that seemed to set of my hernia too.
Despite how I was feeling, I was still determined, but questioning was starting to seep into my mind. Synonymous with that questioning comes a sense of guilt. It happens every time my body has made me miss something I really want to do. I know it’s not good for me to do that to myself, but I can’t help it. I miss being fun and I don’t like missing all these kinds of things I have. It drives me nuts.
The more my body hurt, the more the guilt set in at the thought of not going. My chest, breathing, and stomach were something I could tolerate if I dug in and kept it mellow, but the scales towards doubt got tipped when both of my shoulders fell to pieces.
My decision was made when I got stuck in my hoodie when I was trying to take it off. Once that happened that was it. I didn’t have a town trip and party in me. It sucked a lot. I really wanted to see a bunch of people who I knew who would be there and to say Happy Birthday to Clancy.
Once my decision to not go is made I feel even worse. So I sat there through the rest of the night not with just this body of pain and exhaustion to deal with, but also a mind that is at war with itself.
It may seem as I’m making a big deal out of not going to a party for a friend, but the guilt I feel is real, and this is describing that and where it comes from. The more something means to me the worse I feel. It’s not just this party, but everything like this that I’ve missed. Clancy’s party is just symbolic of it and the example I finally sat down and wrote I guess. (I’m also thinking about a bunch of the shows Paul throws that I would have loved to have seen, but missed because I’m too fucked up. He tells me about all of them, and even offers me guest list and free tickets, but I’m just too messed up.) It’s to the point now that people are genuinely surprised to see me out.
Last night I found myself in that spot again. I thought I felt bad in my mind last night, but apparently that pales in comparison to today. I’ve felt shitty about it all day. I can’t get Clancy outta my head.
My chest pain and stomach have settled down today, but my shoulders are still fucked though. Real bad! I took a siesta in the early afternoon, and woke from a dream about playing hockey again. Not in a game, but on a mostly empty rink by myself…just skatin’ around and shootin’ pucks with about 3 or 4 other people on the ice.
When I woke up I was bummed out because hockey is one of my lifelong favourite things I had to give up as a thing to do, but refuse to give up in my heart. Despite not really being able to shoot I still have a stick and some pucks in my van with my basketball in case the urge to try comes over me.
It was nearing dark, so I decided to head to the park beforehand to get out of the house with Fennario. I don’t think my birthday had anything to do with it, perhaps it was the dream, but when I got to the park I took out my stick and pucks as well as my basketball.
Just hearing the words ‘stick’ and ‘puck’ spoken together is a very nostalgic thing for me that gives me chills. When I have them in my hands I have a flood of emotion wash over me.
When I got to the court I put down the basketball, then took out my three pucks and threw them down. Despite my shoulders I was gonna take try to take some shots. Maybe that was a lame attempt at a birthday gift for myself.
If it was a gift for myself it surely backfired. I only got off three rounds of three shots. Every one of them was terrible and hurt real badly in many places…none worse than my heart.
This is why I sleep with movies on, because when I don’t I dream, and my dreams are literally about bring able to run and jump, or play hockey or tennis. I dream about doing them well like I could, and then I wake up and it’s all gone. The simplest things are just an illusion from a distant time. It makes me sad.
Today was not an exception. I woke up bummed out from the dream, and then when I went to the park and saw how bad the reality was it made me feel even worse.
I was done with taking shots pretty fast. I went straight to shootin’ baskets. Today was an utter failure for that too. I shot something like 5 or 6 straight air balls from up close. I barely hit the front of the rim the rest of the time. It was frustrating.
There was one point when I was getting the ball from the corner of the court that I told myself, “I wish I never knew what day my birthday was so I didn’t ever have to acknowledge it.”
The dark was setting in quickly, but I wasn’t walkin’ off the court until I made one nice smooth beautiful shot first. I never do! It took me quite awhile. Shootin’ from all over! Finally I hit a nice one, blew a kiss to the hoop like I always do (I’m thankful to every ball hoop.), and walked to get my stick and pucks.
When I was bending over picking up my pucks I said something else to myself, or more to the stick and pucks, “This just made everything worse.” That’s the thought I left the park with. It seems I broke my own heart by first dreaming about hockey, then trying to take some shots.
From my body feeling shitty, to the weight on my mind from missing Clancy’s party, to breaking my own heart it didn’t seem to be that triumphant of a birthday once again.
The one plus this year, which is a thing I try to do on my birthday every year, is to do something kind for someone else. Today I finished putting together something simple for an old close friend who I know will lose his shit when he gets his hands on it. At least I got to do that.
Stuff Writin' About Kinda Guy
I am a simple guy who likes to dream of the impossible and go after it. I have found fun in writing about my journey as well as other things that inspire me too.