How do you celebrate a birthday when you’re still not sure that it’s real?
To be honest, I don’t know. I was hoping you could tell me. I’ve maintained a relatively optimistic attitude throughout my recovery this past year, but I didn’t actually think I would age more than 33 years. Even months after I didn’t believe myself capable of taking my own life, I still didn’t think it would happen. I’m 34. That’s crazy af!
I made the proclamation on my birthday that 34 is an imaginary number. All the ones that come after are made up, too. If I don’t believe in them, they can’t possibly be real and I can do whatever I want with them. And if I’ve learned anything over the past three years that’s a totally viable approach to immutable facts. #fakenewsamirite
I don’t have anything of importance to say. Just that I lived to become 34 and that’s bonkers.
(e)Reader 
Hope you did something special on your birthday. And thanks for posting—it’s been nice getting some insight about somebody whose posts I like, like how it used to work on social media, before Facebook made it creepy.
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