LE PROZAC BIRTHDAY

 

ELLO BLOGGGGG. 

As Is le tradition in meg world: I've cancelled le birthday party.

I seem to only make it to le pity party when it cumz to my special day. I'm sure its an issue with self loathing, or self destruction, or maybe its a toxic plea for even more attention. But usually I love to throw those kindz of issues in a tumbler with vodka and diet coke, and drink it till i have le best night ever. Turmoil is great rager fuel. But on my birthday I think I tend to just go Cray isolation mode. I'd def be a runaway bride. Or a hide away bride. 

This year I told moi-self that I'm getting too old to not celebrate moi-self. But after kicking off le month of May with an exhausting week of moving and socializing like my life depended on it (I hit le Marc Jacobs party, le avenue A dives, a private dinner at Christies, le Chelsea hotel, a rando recording studio, and obv flung moi-self down canal street to dimes square barz).... I HIT A MEGA WALL. A MEG WALL. typical. I convinced moi-self that a new apartment (even in brooklyn), a new psychiatrist, a new prozac prescription (OUI I've joined le prozac nation), and new shoez would make for an entirely new lifestyle. I sprinted out of my slump and wound up burnt le EFF out. Beyond burnt out. Can't get out of bed or wash my hair or pick up le phone to respond to a single text FRIED. 

I missed work, friends birthdayz, ghosted peepz.... And le evil bulimia returned after not yakking for a whole week. Thiz bitch was throwing $40 calling in effing mcdonalds yet again!!!!!

 I should have known I couldn't run from stride to stride to my fucking birthday. 

May 13th and I don't have le best track record. 

 I love gifts so although I usually cried a lot , le bday was swag as a kid because it ment new clothez. 

When I moved to NYC I certainly got happier and I got to get new clothez way more often buuuuuuuuut le birthdayz got complicated. My first year in le city, le 13th coincided with le end up finalz at Parsonzz. So naturally I waz failing like 2 classes (one of which I talked my way up to a C to !!!), waz in too deep with le partying from a wild first year of independence, and had to move out of my dorm. Le dorm issue waz a big problemo as I hadnt really lived in my room so much as dumped piles of clothes and like trash on and around my tiny bed when I swung by to change party looks or grab some supplies to look fake prepared for a class I hadn't shown face in enough. I still feel terrible for my much more responsible roommate. Sorry!!!!!! Anywayz I had been crashing at friendz apartments (at 18 nothing waz cooler than having your own apartment in new York city) and friendz rooms and BLA BLA blaaaa. And now I had to deal with my hoarder piles of beacons  closet rags and vfiles sample sale rejectz, and spools of ribbon (I was obsessed with wearing wide 3yard long ribbons tied around my neck). AND I did NOT want to leave new York (ellllllooo I had hella friendz, an internship, and a drug habit!) Butttttttt had failed to make any type of proper  arrangements.

I waz panicked and when i panic I shutdown and do anything I can to numb le efff out. I refused to leave new York but I didn't know how I waz gonna pack up my stuff in a weekend, let alone where I waz gonna move it to!! 

......FYI le stuff ultimately mostly ended up in le trash or in a shit show storage locker on le west side, I ended up at a Gramercy hotel then a disgusto hostel on le Bowery that wanted to be le Chelsea but absolutely. Was. Not........ 

That birthday I just remember pushing some clothez around my skinny dorm bed enough go curl up on my mattress and popping benzos and trying to sleep all day. In le afternoon my eager friends started texting moi. In le evening I could hear my suitemates whispering about moi and what waz up. I ignored everyone. Finally a friend let moi know that they'd planned an entire effing surprise rager at my friend Maya's pad. With a cake with my face printed on it, and balloonz that spelled out MEG, and lots of peepz...that whole kind of thing. I couldn't get up and I missed it entirely. Effing nutsoooooooo!

After that no show fiasco my friendz understood I really wasn't a birthday person. Too much presh. I wallowed for a few 13ths, hit a dive late one year, and during lockdown was surprised with a well intentioned but totally dark drug party.

 Then last year I tried to be healthy and go to therapy on my birthday. Thought I'd Start le year all namasté. I waz in a pretty good place and had a boyfriend I loved and had just gotten an $800 room in the lower east side and waz way too skinny!! 

PEEPZ. DO NOT GO TO THERAPY ON YOUR BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!! Just bad MF idea. Le birthday already bringz up enough childhood turmoil on le reg. So instead of linking all my friendz as I had planned I cried. But then my ex gave moi presents and got moi to walk to tompkinz and took ova and arranged for some friendz come and they brought Malibu which I hadn't had in years and we drank like two bottles of it and raged afternoon to night and it waz probz le best birthday I ever had ! 

Thiz year Ive had a rough spring. Winter waz too cray, but I've blabbed enough about that on le blog already. We get it. I'm a bit down in le dumpz. This is le reality of being mood disordered moi. But as I said I felt like I'm too old to not start celebrating moi-self!!! And although I'm ashamed of my shit bevahior le past few dayz aka going off le grid and missing important shit and le eating disorder comeback... I do want to get shitfaced and see my friendz. 

Le.problem? I spent most of le day at le effing pharmacy sorting out an insurance issue (unsuccessfully). I'm doubling my dose of prozac starting today so I can't get mega wasted! And I'm sick!! And i loathe a group dinner. And im still shaking off agoraphobic vibez. after a few dayz of Howard Hughes hibernation if I hit le town I'll probz stay out all weekend or have a lil breakdown. EFF DAT. May just have to stay in my room doing research on Russian ballerina drama (it'z fascinating!!!!)!

When I was up at le beginning of le month I planned to throw a Tompkins Sq Park, coachella themed rager today. But its effing raining and I'm not in a place where I can really bare to be looked at by loadz of peepz. So le party is cancelled. My difficult tradition!!!!!! 

 all I really wanna is smoke cigarettes on le stoop anywayz! 

MERCI FOR READING XXXXXXXXXX