I Hate When Its My Birthday

Two years ago, I wrote about how I hated my birthday. I still do. I turned 21 today and I thought this one might be a little different because I was working today. I work at a baseball stadium so it's not every year that we have a game on my birthday. Most of the other managers are friends but I've never been particularly close with any of them. I thought that most people would know it's my birthday, but I honestly don't think anyone did. Yesterday one person (who I'm admittedly fairly close with) wished me an early belated birthday. Another girl overheard and asked another guy whose birthday it was. When he replied that it was mine, she seemed to just shrug it off. Not one person said happy birthday today. I turned 21, but the only high school friend that I'm close with isn't old enough to drink, so I just went right home after work. I feel like my whole life has been full of regrets. The first 21 years of your life are supposed to be the best. You're supposed to make memories that keep you happy when you're too old to do whatever you want. I thought tonight might be different, but I was wrong. When I have my first legal drink, it won't be on my birthday. I can never get that back. I thought about getting food on the way home to cheer me up, but fast food is bad for you and I was too sad to even stop somewhere and get out of my car. The worst part is that anyone who reads this far will just feel pity. My life is the type of story that makes people feel glad that they're not me. If you read this far, props to you for caring. If you're curious, all I want for my birthday is to die. I haven't been happy since I moved schools in first grade and I haven't had a pleasant birthday in years. I'm at a point where I hate holidays, especially my birthday, because it just reminds me how sad I am relative to everyone else.