I’m officially a quarter and two pennies. I still remember when I was still a dime,  counting the nickel or pennies until I turned 15 and now I’m almost double that. Time flies.

Ordinarily, I would make it a point to ignore my birthday because I’ve always felt that it was nothing special. It was just another year that I was older, also because I hate the spotlight on me, but I’ve come to a point in my life where I’ve been reflecting on a lot of things. Just a moment ago, as I was sitting in the dark going through my regular ol’ self-deprecating spiel I realized that today’s not the day. I have so much to be thankful for. I’m an expert at self-deprecation, so skilled that sometimes I don’t realize I’m doing it. It’s going to take some time to retrain myself.

I’m a year older today and I can say that proudly, not because I want some sort of congratulations to gain the spotlight but because I made it through another day. I don’t have enough fingers on my hands to count the times I could have died, willingly and accidentally. I’ve given up on myself and barely gotten through some days, barely standing but I’m still here. I think back to the all the times that I attempted against my life, their was so much darkness and sadness. It was all so overwhelming, I was in agony and their was no one I could turn to or so this disease has a way of making you feel that way. I just wanted it all to go away.  I never once thought about how it would have affected anyone else’s life. Never. I only sought refuge from the pain or on one occasion I wanted a couple of people to feel the ramifications of their hateful words and actions.

Fortunately, after all those unsuccessful attempts I’m still here and though I doubted I’d ever say it . . . I’m glad to say that.  I won’t lie and say that it’s been an easy ride because I still struggle heavily. Their are times when it sings to me it’s deadly lullaby with arduous conviction that I consider singing along, but then I look around me at all that I have and I realize that the song is no longer romantic and forcibly decline its invitation to be led into its cold embrace.

As a way to celebrate these past twenty seven years of ups and downs, I decided to add some color to it. Initially, it was going to be another common color but my job gave me the nod of approval and the sister offered to gift it to me and so I went with purple. By far, the best decision because it’s made me feel as vibrant as it is.


I hope, that if anyone who reads this is going through a similar struggle can see that things can get better. You just have to fight for it, even when the fight gets tireless.

2 thoughts on “27

  1. I have followed your “Blog• from the first day I signed up to WordPress ( and to be honest, it is the only blog I attempt to follow). I cannot put my finger on it, but something “rang a bell” with me. I am a 46 year old man, and words you say are words that I want to say. We have much in common, also much that is not. I will not waste your time with words that have no meaning, let me simply say: Happy Birthday. 27 is a milestone worth some sort of celebration. My wish for you in the comming year is one if understanding, tolerance and of course hope.

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