Well I can safely say that was the worst birthday I have ever had. I never enjoy birthdays, but that was incredibly hard. We had to leave at 8am, so I was absolutely exhausted as that meant getting up at 7, and I don't usually get to sleep until 2 or 3 hours before that. The funeral itself was fine I suppose, or as much as funerals ever can be. Obviously it was upsetting, because funerals always are. It was also really difficult, because throughout the day people were saying how much of a shock his death had been because he seemed to be doing alright, and was physically fairly healthy, or as much as he ever was. I couldn't stop thinking that it was my fault, and that the reason it was so unexpected was because he shouldn't have died, and wouldn't have if it hadn't been for me. So that was really difficult having that constantly rolling through my head. And funerals always make me think about my own funeral too, and really ramp up the suicidal thoughts. When we came out from the funeral I wandered off by myself for a while whilst everyone was talking, I just needed to be by myself. So that was all hard, but pretty much what I had expected.
Then we went back to the bungalow. I said I was staying in the car. My parents tried to persuade me to go in, but I really didn't want to, so I stayed in the car and lay down on the back seat, as I figured I may as well try and get some sleep in. I vaguely wondered if I would die if I stayed in the car long enough, as it was so hot, but decided I probably wouldn't, or it would be a pretty common suicide method. After about half an hour (I think) one of my cousins came out and asked if I was going to come in, and I said that I didn't want to, and she said that lots of people were sitting out in the garden so I could do that, so I said I didn't want to then, but maybe would later so that she would leave me alone (I am a bitch, yes). A while after that my mum came back out and made me go back with her, although I still didn't want to. It wasn't too bad I suppose. I sat and talked to people, but I felt really uncomfortable and I just wanted to get home. There was also loads and loads of food there, and I ate a lot more than I felt comfortable with. I really wanted to purge, but that obviously wasn't an option, so I just had to sit there feeling horrible about it. My mum had said in the end yesterday that we would stay a couple of hours and then go. Seemingly a couple in her language means over five. I was quite upset by that, because she knew I hadn't wanted to go there, she knew I hadn't wanted to stay, she had told me we would stay a couple of hours and then go, and we ended up not leaving until about 5:45, which just made me feel like what I wanted and felt was being completely ignored.
We got home about 8 and I felt like complete shit - I think a combination of funerals always being upsetting, feeling personally responsible for this one, always disliking birthdays, having such a shit birthday, feeling let down by my parents over how long we would stay afterwards, being tired, feeling crap about what I had eaten, usual low mood, and suicidal thoughts. I came straight upstairs to my room. My mum asked if I wanted to go downstairs and open my cards and presents (she seized the opportunity to go into town for an hour when I had a voice therapy appointment the other day, but said there is nothing very interesting!), but I said that I didn't want to - I had had a crap day and would rather leave it until tomorrow. My parents then both said that my day hadn't been that bad, and that I had quite enjoyed myself some of the time. That made me really bloody angry. For a start, I hate it when people assume they know what you are thinking and how you are feeling. I have spent the entire day feeling like shit and wanting to cry - I am still feeling like that now and we have been home for 5 hours. And it also pissed me off because I hate the way they assume that if I am smiling or chatting or something then that means I am happy. They know damn well that I often hide how I am feeling, and they knew that I had said all along that I didn't want to go back to the house after, that I was very uncomfortable with it, that I didn't want to stay long, etc, and so them saying that I had enjoyed myself made me so angry. Particularly from my mum, who always claims she can tell how I am feeling even if I am trying to hide it - I always say that she has no idea, which is shown time and time again, and I think today has proved that yet again. I have a sum total of 3 cards - how popular am I?! I could tell by the writing on the envelopes when they arrived who they were from - one is from my friend A, another is from one of my brothers, and then the third is from my parents. Considering I have 2 other siblings, other friends that I send cards to, and saw a lot of family today I think that is a particularly low number. It isn't about the number of cards really. Well in a way it is, because cards show that people are thinking of you enough to send a card, and that they care. It sounds stupid and like a big overreaction, but it makes me think how few people would actually miss me if I wasn't here. I am being self absorbed and whiny, so I will go to bed now I think. I am exhausted - I think mostly emotionally.