A surprisingly happy birthday

1.

10/20/20

Dear Diary,

Hey, it’s me again. You know, Julia? Or I suppose you know me as Amir, right? Well anyway, I don’t usually talk to people about these things — mostly because I feel like they wouldn’t care —  but I know you’re always here to listen! 🙂 

I’m tired, and I don’t mean like sleepy-tired but mentally, physically and emotionally tired. There’s really no better way for me to describe this besides that it’s like there’s a constant battle going on in my mind. One side, the “good” side, wants me to breathe and slow down. But the other side …  The “bad” side is so loud, always screaming that nobody cares or that I’m functioning too slowly. I just want a break from both of them, and a break from myself. It makes one wish that there was a “pause” button you could press to put life on hold until you’re ready to continue living.  

Wow — that was kind of deep, but I guess that’s just how I’ve been feeling lately. I know things like this, thoughts like this, are what cause people to worry about me. Heck, I’m worried about myself, but I know I’ll be fine one day. I just need to shut myself off from other people for a while because I seem to be struggling with having patience or understanding for them. 

This is pretty long, WAY longer than I wanted it to be, so I’m going to end this here. I’m also ending it here because I’ve run out of ideas, but I’ll be back to talk again. I know you’re always here to listen.

Thank you, Diary.

Sincerely,

Julia Amir

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2.

10/22/20

Dear Diary,

Hey there, hey there!~ Hey there, hey there!~

Today I want to talk about my birthday because it was last month (September 6, I turned 17 years old) and I like talking about myself. This year I turned 17 during quarantine. Personally, I HATE my birthday. Not because I don’t like attention — I’m an attention hog — but because my grandmother (on my dad’s side of the family) died a few weeks after my 10th birthday. After that, my birthday just wasn’t something I felt like celebrating, but I’ll gladly accept birthday hugs or chocolate. This year wasn’t very different from any other birthday I’ve had since I was 11, but there was just something about THIS past birthday that got my attention. That something was the increase in birthday wishes I received this year, which is something really random and something that most people would say shouldn’t matter, but bear with me as I tell you WHY this was the main reason that I somewhat enjoyed my birthday.

For this to make sense, I need to tell you that my grandmother (I called her “Mama”) was the only person in my immediate family who made me feel validated, especially when I started to get bullied at school. In other words, I knew she cared because she always showed me that she did while my other family members were more standoffish and distant. I didn’t feel unloved because they were more distant, I just felt neglected. To this day, I still feel neglected when I don’t receive a certain amount of attention, so just knowing that people took the time out of their day to wish me a happy birthday, made me feel like people actually care about me, even if they only care on that one day. 

Moral of the story: I got some extra attention on my birthday and it made me feel special.

Sincerely,

Julia Amir