‘How’s your birthday?!’ My dad called into the phone in his kind, somewhat sing-song tone.
‘Depressing as fuck.’ I replied deadpan and paused for his laughter with a smirk on my face. The sound of a loved ones laugh has to be one of the greatest sounds on earth, particularly when I sparked it.
I usually enjoy birthdays but something about missing my dog and my boobs trying to kill me and learning who is not in it for the right reasons had me bumming out. If you know you know on the last one. If you don’t, well… you might not be in it for the right reasons.
One time in college I took a Brazilian Film course. I was a film major, so a random film class was not unusual, but this was what I thought of as a random throw away summer course. Turns out, there are a few common themes in Brazilian film that I’ve carried with me since. One is saudade. As I understand it, it’s a word similar to nostalgia but mixed with sadness and longing, sometimes for more an idea lost than an actual memory. I don’t know of a single word in English that encompasses that feeling, but I know I’ve felt it many times in my life. My 42nd birthday was one of those times.
I feel like I’m coming to terms with a lot at once. I’m looking at a terrifying mountain in front of me knowing I’m just starting the climb. I don’t want to do it. I just want things to be calm and boring for a while, but I know I don’t get to have that. I’m mourning expectations I had for my future and trying desperately to imagine something even better. Part of me deep down knows this can be a hero’s journey rather than a defeat, but right now trying to see that for myself is a little like looking for a reflection in shattered glass.
I would like to think the amount of emotional pain I’m going through right now means I’m right on track for hero’s journey. I don’t know if it’s a coping mechanism or truly learning what you’re made of, but I do believe going through such a challenging time might be the only way for me to really break through to a better version of myself. A more authentic and whole version. Unfortunately getting there feels like shedding my actual skin.
Despite all the heaviness, I am trying to embrace this time and do everything I can to not let the depression nipping at my heals take me down. I’m greeting the sun everyday like I found Jesus (I swear it actually does make the whole day better). I’m dancing with strangers at a neighborhood block party (true story). I’m running like a kid breaking free for recess just because it feels good. Well more like a middle aged woman working off a lot of rage but either way it feels good. I’m out at the dive bar Dolly Parton tribute in the comforting presence of enormous sequined-clad drag queens. I’m watching a whole movie by myself that is not Toy Story. Hey, I’m a mom in my 40’s, not all of these exciting moments are thrilling on paper, but the point is I’m making a point to make time to really live. And truthfully, sometimes it feels like all I’m doing is fighting to keep the heaviness from drowning the joy, but I think this can be a lesson too.
There is always some sort of heaviness, but we still get to live too. In fact, we must despite it. Perhaps even to spite it. Maybe all the expectations for the future only hold us back from what could be possible.
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