baby, birthday blues, bad dates
the last few weeks
I walked downstairs and my father was watching the show Arrow and eating his dinner by himself. My mother was out for the evening and I’d been napping in my room. “I used to read these comics as a kid!” He told me when I entered the living room. He went on to explain all the different characters and the storylines as they unfolded. I made myself some food and we watched the show and the moment was precious. My dad’s nostalgia, contagious, though I’d never read the comics myself.
Sometimes I miss New York City at the beginning of Summer. Living in that slab of concrete and the rich locals have left but the tourists haven’t arrived yet. Two points in time at the very beginning of Summer and the very end.
Nine days after she was due, my niece entered the world. I think she’d have stayed in my sister longer if she could, but induction urged her out. I found my heart encased in worry as my sister labored. All the boomers around us did not really acknowledge the trauma of labor, they tend to have trouble holding two truths at once. That labor is terrifying and excruciating and traumatic and it also can bring you unbelievable happiness. I wish people in that age group were better at feelings. I think the world would look different if they were.
She was born at 1am. When I went to the hospital in the morning I sat in the lobby awaiting the go-ahead to ascend to the maternity ward. I was surrounded by my parents and my sister’s in-laws. They were all talking and smiling but I just sat there, unable to speak until I laid eyes on my sister and saw that she was ok. I ran up the stairs and into the room where she was on a hospital bed holding her baby. She was ok. I could breathe.
It felt very much like a village when they came home from the hospital and we all did what we could to help them adjust. It felt how it was supposed to. Family and community and taking care of one another.
Every time I held my niece I marveled at her wonder. That she was here, that my sister made her. That she was one of us.
Newborn land is a magical and exhausting place. Even though I am back in my city I remember my sister is in the thick of it and it can feel endless.
My birthday was spent pretending it wasn’t my birthday. I woke up and sobbed on the day. I just couldn’t stop crying. My friend sent me a voice memo telling me how much she loved me and that made me cry harder. The anxiety surrounding this year’s birthday was oppressive. Last year’s was so beautiful and it was probably the last good day of the year. Looking back, it marked the beginning of all the terrible events that unfolded in the second half of 2024. This year’s ended up with funfetti cake and mac and cheese while my niece continued to steal our hearts. It was cute and I was glad when the day was over because the birthday blues were so bad.
I flew back to my city, stopping over in Vegas. I sat on the floor and watched people approach the slot machines, the eerie, mechanical songs echoing through the air of concourse B. I was starving, all I’d eaten was a small packet of oreos the flight attendant had given me on the previous flight. I couldn’t wait to get home and eat a giant bowl of ramen.
My bed engulfed me and held me hostage for 5 hours upon my return. The rest of the week was spent catching up with people I love, going to the cinema, to protests, the gym, swiping dating apps, and sleeping. Productivity was forgotten. And I felt incapable. Google searches on how to get Vyvanse, what are over the counter alternatives to Adderall, how to self-treat ADHD, were characteristically making up the many open tabs of my several open browsers. Too much doomscrolling combined with a luteal phase made my symptoms worse. I’m a step away from trying to find an Adderall dealer on reddit. We’ll try gingko biloba capsules and a tiktok break in the meantime.
A date with a sad, short, 40 year old man on Saturday soured my enthusiasm for the hot girl summer I was planning on having. An actual sentence he said to me was, “We really over-corrected after the Me Too movement.” I do not know why they feel comfortable saying such stupid shit. The next day I cancelled a date with a different man because he kept begging for nudes even though I’d told him no. The past week I’ve had to block 3 different people on dating apps because they’ve shown concerning behavior. I’m contemplating celibacy at this point. Maybe it’s not a bad idea until I can get my life going in the direction I want it to. The only problem is I really enjoy having sex with men. It’s embarrassing.
It’s really hard to not be pessimistic about love. Dating is depressing in general. I know too much. I haven’t been surprised by a man in long time. The disappointment is predictable and boring. I try to tell myself that my female ancestors would be thrilled to hear that I do not have to deal with a man to survive. That I can just do my thing without having to take one into my bed to prevent ruin and starvation. I know how lucky I am. But I still want love. I want partnership and intimacy and I want to have children.
There are a lot of things I want still. And every birthday feels like a time bomb, the incessant clicking, a reminder of how finite it all might be. And the events in the outside world echoing through history, riding in circles, going nowhere but around.
Maybe I just need some sun and some food.
Nothing like a bad date to ruin the vibe.
Tomorrow I’ll repair it, I hope. I think not having my writing practice the past month has deteriorated my psyche a bit, I’m glad to be back at it. I think morning pages every day again will do wonders. I really am happy to be back in my city, dating setbacks aside. I miss my sister and my niece and my family but here is where I need to be right now. Building my life, crafting the things I want until one day I look away and my dreams have arrived.
