I was foolish to think that I could have a happy birthday. In what world would I ever deserve one day where nothing went wrong? One day where I could feel happy and celebrate 21 years of surviving depression, anxiety, and just overall shitty life? No. It would be my last huge milestone birthday that would just take the cake. No pun intended… Happy fucking 21st birthday to me! Complete with family drama, friends telling me I’m a piece of shit, and being spat on for trying to help. I am so sorry world. If I am that much of a disappointment and hassel, I’ll just exit quietly and do my best to stay out of the way. I’m so sorry.