Wednesday, June 6, 2007

The Early Years

I have an extremely traumatic memory of my 4th birthday party. I remember every second of it, and it truly scarred me for life, and I pretty much blame any insecurities or paranoia I have and will ever have in my lifetime on what happened that day.

My mother tells me that that is impossible...that I only believe that I remember so much of it because I have seen the incident on our home movies so many times. (Apparently, tormenting and traumatizing me once wasn't enough for my family...we had to relive it on television over and over and over.)

Oh, but I remember it ever so clearly...I remember the Pound Puppies birthday cake with the giant number "4" on it...and I remember how my family began to sing, and sang "Happy Birthday" every single person around that table but me.

"Happy Birthday Dear Aunt Barbara!" "Happy Birthday Dear Grandpa!" I bounced up and down in my chair, going, "Stop it! Everybody stop singing! It's my birthday! It's my birthday!" I pointed to myself with my plastic cake fork, crying, "It's MY birthday! Mine!"

They ignored me and kept singing, surpassing their giggles and relishing in my despair...there were a lot of people there that day to celebrate (what I thought had been) my birthday, and they simply ignored me as they continued to sing. Eventually, they had no choice but to sing "Happy Birthday to Diana", as the candles on the cake were beginning to melt. I will truly never forget that day...and never let my family forget it either.

I would eventually grow-up to become one of the most sensitive people in the world.

Diana Rissetto

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