Laughing at the clock

Many would be shocked to hear that I hate my birthday.   I think the dislike came after my 25th.   The essence of time became limited and many deadlines came about.  Shit got busy and structured.   You’re always racing against the clock.  You never feel like you have enough time.   As we get older I find there is less time. AND  If you have children, there is even lesser time.   Our life expectancy is measured in time, years and birthdays.    So for me, birthdays are an indication that you are a year closer to your end date.  Yeah, I know… grim outlook. 

For someone who has such an aversion to aging,  I celebrate my birthday for weeks and with every important person available.   Hilarious right?  My theory is.. always spin a negative into a positive.  I use my birthday to my advantage.    Who can say no to you when you ask to see them on and\or around your birthday?  Not many…

The theory “age ain’t nuttin but a number” or ” its not about the number, its about how you feel”; doesn’t work for those suffering from an autoimmune disease.  We feel old all day, everyday.   Our bodies are old.  They crack, creek, snap and pop.  Get a few of us together, we could make some wicked beats.     We don’t look sick unless you open us up… and our organs scream “get off my grass”.  Then you know our bodies are old and miserable.   Just being diagnosed with an autoimmune disease shortens your life expectancy {scientific fact} ..so birthdays now are the “how long before I croak” reminder.   Its a scary thought, your life ending because a disease has the power to kill you.

Its because of that reason exactly that  I ensure I celebrate my day of birth.   I refuse to allow some disease dictate when and how and where I live my life and in what manner.   I refuse to allow this grim circumstance consume all of my life events and turn them into “I can’t moments” or “I’m too afraid” pity parties.  I need to continue to make memories.. feel good moments.  Everyone deserves happiness.  Everyone deserves to laugh.   Laughter is a great cure.  It’s an amazing pain killer and so I try to laugh as often as possible.  

Laughter is very present on birthdays when surrounded by your favorite people and so every year for mine, I gather those who are my “feel good” people to celebrate with me.   Most of my friends and close family members are younger and I read that hanging out with younger people helps you live longer.   I like this.  I now have another excuse other than an “immature mentality”{which also keeps you younger} to hang out with “the youngins”.  We get together, we bust balls {insults}, we laugh and we make memories.   I ensure that I take the time to cherish my life because in the end the clock won’t mean shit.  I also stay younger by being as silly and immature as possible.   I quote Eddy Murphy often {delirious and raw}.   Anything and everything to do with gas … has me in stitches.  I have a trucker mouth cause cursing just adds flavor to every story and I find it fun.   During these  precious times.. I forget that I am sick and for those few hours, I am pain free and just living.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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