I have always loved my birthday. I don’t have any family members that share my special day. It just meant so much to me that people were excited about the day I entered this world.
But now it is a very different reason. You see, on December 22nd, 2015, I attempted suicide by swallowing a bunch of pills. The police came and took me to a psych ward for observation. After spending a bit of time there, I sought help with a therapist. And now I no longer have those dark thoughts. I have hopeful thoughts. Positive thoughts. And I am eternally grateful that I failed to end my life when I tried. Grateful that I am here. Grateful for every single birthday I am blessed with, purely because I love being alive.
It’s why I take pictures of everything that I find fascinating or funny or beautiful and share them on social media. I want to share my appreciation for life with the world. I love listening to the train as it passes by in the night. I love beautiful cloudy days and gorgeous sunny ones. I love the smell of the rain and the sound it makes outside the window or on my umbrella. I love the feel of the warm rain on my skin. I love witty people that laugh at their own jokes even harder than the rest of us. I love to hear people laugh. I love the sound of dozens of voices talking when I enter a crowded place, especially places where there are family functions going on. I love hugs. I love kindness. I love the roar of the ocean waves meeting the rocks and sand. I love sunsets and sunrises. I love that first sip of coffee with my favorite creamer, in the morning. I love the comfort of my bed at the end of a long day. I love to dance to music, in the kitchen, when preparing food or doing dishes. I love the hum of the fan when I fall asleep in the dark. I love my fuzzy Star Wars pajama pants and oversized Harley Davidson sweatshirt. I love going barefoot. I love having hope that things will turn out okay. I love having faith that God is in control. I love when I see his signs so clearly leaving no room for doubt. I love peace. I love solitude. I love going to the movies and out for dinner. I love doing things on my own, feeling independent. I also love having help from people who never make me feel indebted to them. I love helping others. I love doing speaking engagements. I love impacting others lives in a positive way. I love the castle ruins in Ireland, the sunsets at Santa Monica beach, the history in Delaware, the skies over Texas and all the people I have been blessed to meet in-between. And I love writing. Telling the stories I watch in my mind as movies. I love sharing those stories with others. The love of my family and friends. The ones who have been here for me in the darkest of times. I love cuddles from my little dog. And more than anything, I love my children. To realize all the years of their hugs, hearing their laughter, being there for them through tears…that were almost gone. It makes me love life all the more.
I am here. I am alive. I have learned to love myself. I have purpose. And I am loved.
This is why my birthday is so very important to me. Yes, every day is important to me, but I wasn’t born every day. I was born March 15th. That is my day to celebrate me and the life I have been blessed with.
Thank you for reading. X