Post-birthday blues...

Yes, it's happened. The thing that I have been looking forward to for about two months... My 22nd Birthday has been and gone in the blink of an eye. And I was left disappointed.

WARNING - This post is whiney and depressing. You may want to opt out of it now to save yourself from my teenage-like angsts.

I'm going to stop planning things for my birthday because for, perhaps, the third year running now, I have been left sorely disappointed.

It was pretty doomed from the start. The whole dress fiasco was stressing me out. I'm never really selfish but wanted to stand out on my birthday in the best possible dress I could have ever wanted. But it didn't happen. I was left with a dress that did not hide my huge belly. It was nice, but not the one I wanted.

I was ridiculously unorganised and didn't really let people know what was going on etc. etc. Entirely out of character and suffered from it in the long-run.

Normally, I always prat around in a pair of PJs until just before we're leaving so I don't ruin my dress, but carried on getting pestered by everyone to get changed into the dress that was too lowcut for my HUUUUUGE boobs. I looked like a bloody hooker.

I suppose it came together in the end. The very end.

But what has been the story of my life is that I am a heavyweight drinker. It takes me a SHIT LOAD to get drunk. Normally I can improvise and get around this by drinking wine or vodka or cider. But wine is not a 'going out' drink, vodka makes me ill the day after I've been drinking it and cider makes me bloated, which, let's face it, I already had my tits and arse on show - I didn't want my belly any bigger than what it normally is.

And what's really fucked me off is that I had absolutely NO MONEY to buy drinks once we were out. I took a lot of money out but it was my birthday money. I didn't want to piss it up the wall on drinks.

For once in my life, I've found myself sorely disappointed that my birthday is in November, where, at the moment, is the WORST TIME OF THE YEAR to have a birthday because everyone's so fuckin' skint.

Not to mention that fact that people pulled out of coming last week... a week where I was not looking forward to my birthday soooooo badly that I was close to cancelling on everyone and boxing myself up in my room and refusing to leave it on Saturday.

This will shock people who actually came out for my birthday (though I doubt any of them read my blog) because I did, kinda, have a good time. But I don't go out on nights out anymore which kills me because I love to dance and drink and see my friends.

I miss them. And the weekend was just not fun enough for me.

I couldn't even go and see Harry Potter on Sunday because I had to get back to Huddersfield for a JobSeekers consultation on Monday.

:'(

I genuinely think I may have a very very mild case of depression. It doesn't help that I'm unemployed, fat, single and don't have a social life at the moment.

The best thing of the night is this photo I suppose. I guess from the smile on my face it shows that I was having the time of my life. But in hindsight, I wish I'd have been more drunk and a little happier with myself. This will bring a lot of people down; I've even got a bit upset writing it.

I need to sort myself out.

No, wait. I need to get a job.

I didn't realise it would affect me this much. It's been five months.