I turn 33 today.
Normally for my birthday, I usually post something in-depth, even if it’s last year’s shitty sad-sackery. I don’t have much this year. I’ve gotten over the slump I was in, sorta, but still battling my depression and my self-sabotage. I’m getting to the point where I’m ready to acknowledge that I might need some help, but not yet to the point where I actually seek out that help. I was much more interested in celebrating my Dad’s birthday last weekend than I am in my own today. I am lonely, I take advantage of and take for granted all of my friends and yet cannot appreciate that I have friends or that maybe they don’t all hate me, like I just assume that they do. But at least Adam Hughes hasn’t ruined my life this year. On the plus side, there have not been any major setbacks, and some very tiny steps forward to achieving a happier, healthier Eric, so maybe by the time I’m 35 – if I am not dead – I can start my way toward being a grown-up.
Anyway, in the spirit of looking up and looking ahead, I drew something that made me chuckle as I sketched it.
