It’s my birthday tomorrow!

I’m 33 tomorrow! I was only a teenager not long ago… time has gone too fast! I can’t sleep again. I had an hours sleep earlier but then have been awake for the rest of the night. I seem to do that every night recently. I suppose it’s better than no sleep. I sleep for a few hours during the day which equals about 4 hours in total. It’s not ideal but it’s the only way that I can trick the insomnia into allowing me to sleep any amount of time. It doesn’t feel like my birthday. There is no special vibes to turning a year older. The novelty wears off after reaching about 21. There’s nothing special about turning 33. 30 was supposed to be one of those milestone birthdays but I didn’t really celebrate it. The next one for me will be 40. That’s if I get to that birthday. I’m not being morbid. I’m aware that the average life expectancy for those with autism, learning disability, mental illness is mid to late thirties. Marilyn Monroe never made it to 40. She took medication for what is now seen as mental illness. I’ve had a lot of medication during my life from a young age. I’ve abused painkillers in the past. I drink alcohol regularly nowadays. I don’t smoke and eat mostly vegetarian so that may balance things out. I may get to 60 if I’m lucky in that case. I’m starting to feel old now I’m on my thirties. As a twenty something I had a lot of energy both physically and mentally. That seems to be dwindling now. I don’t know if my tiredness is the mental effects of everything I went through in the past. I may not have bounced back properly and it’s built up. I know that I feel emotionally tired. That doesn’t go away regardless whether I get proper sleep (which hasn’t happened for a long time now). I still keep feeling that life is a chore. That is how depression can be.