I Hate When Its My Birthday

I guess I'm just extra cynical today. It's my birthday today and I hate it. That might sound weird, so let me explain. Last year, my family was on vacation during my birthday, August 10th. My mom promised me that we would go out to dinner on another day to celebrate, but then she forgot. We never went out to dinner. I didn't get any presents or a party. No one remembered my birthday that year. The entire day was one giant reminder that I was a nobody with no significance in anyone's life. When I later confronted my mom about this, she denied ever having promised that we'd go out to dinner on that day, basically saying I had made the whole thing up. I got so angry that she'd forget her own child's birthday and then lie about it. We yelled and fought and I said some of the harshest things I've ever said to anyone. Even though they were harsh, I still don't regret saying them. Honestly I lost all faith in my family that day. When this year came around, I was dreading my birthday. I didn't want presents or a party. I just wanted to go out to dinner with my parents so maybe we could move past what happened last year. But when we got to the Cheesecake Factory (the restaurant I picked for dinner), my dad kept complaining that the air conditioning wasn't working. I did notice that inside the restaurant was a little warmer than usual, but I didn't think it was anything worth complaining about. My dad has always been weird like that. He likes to be really cold. For example, he turns down the thermostat so low that my mom and I have to wear a sweatshirt to stay warm even though it's August. My dad asked me if I wanted to go somewhere else and I said yes, knowing that he'd just keep complaining and making me feel guilty if I insisted on staying. So we went to the Outback instead. On the way home, my dad asked if we could stop at Target. At first, he didn't even ask me. He asked my mom and she said he should ask me. He promised he'd be quick and said that he only needed to buy a backpack to donate to a charity event at work. Not wanting to be a jerk, I said sure. So he parked the car and my parents went into the store. I decided to wait in the parking lot because I thought they'd be quick like they promised. They took an hour just to buy a backpack and some school supplies. Meanwhile, I had to sit in the car and be cold because my dad left the AC on way too high. I couldn't change it either because he gets really mad if anyone messes with it. When we got home I didn't bother eating any of the cake that my mom made. I told her to send it to work with dad so it wouldn't get wasted. Honestly I can't help but think that my birthday is my least favorite day of the year. I wish I just didn't have one. My family ruined it for me and I don't think I can ever move past what happened when I turned 17. So here I am, in the last half an hour of my birthday, sitting here typing this story and wishing it was over :( Part of me is afraid that I'll never like my birthday because every time I think about it, my mind goes back to that horrible night when nobody remembered. I'm sure this took a long time to read, so thanks if you actually read it.