Every year around the sun has come with a new challenge since my decades climbed more ladders. I’ve had to pick myself up from every imaginable scenario; through the existential dreads, mood swings, from every harmful mental stage. I’m glad that I have, but it always leaves room to wonder, have I gotten this right? Should I care? And, why? And it seems like a thing that one day came to stay: good ol’ birthday sadness. So the question remains: why is my birthday so triggering instead of bringing me happiness? It seems the farther I go into my double digits the harder it becomes to dig it. Everything and…