I Don't Know What I Want

Doesn't it figure?  I am my own person, base everything on what I want, or what I want to be, and I don't know what I want.
My birthday is coming up, and my mother has been on a trip most of the week.  My birthday is this weekend, and I don't really like birhtdays, but I feel disappointment sit in my stomach when they get me something I don't want.  It makes me feel like a spoiled brat, but I can't stop it. 
I don't know what I want, and even if I did I would make sure that the proce isn't to high for my mom.  But the fact is that I don't know what I want!!  And I have the nerve to feel disappointed that they don't know what to get me, when I haven't even told them what I want becasue I don't know what I want!
Oy!
Confusing?  Maybe.  But I feel disappointed because I know if we go to the city, then I know what we will do.  My birthday is always the birthday that everyone in my family benefits from because I can't figure out what I want.  So we usually do something like, go shopping to stores we all like, but not all like.  Example, one of us could like Best Buy, we will go to Best Buy, even though I don't want to.  But I don't say that.
Oy!
So I don't get that special treatment of this is what you want, so you get it, and everyone is pretending to have fun, even though they aren't, just for the sake of you and it being your birthday.
Yeah.
So not happening for me.
My older brother will be texting his B of a girlfriend, my little brother complaining about how he hates this, and his life, and that he wishes I had never been borm because doing this makes his feet hurt.  And my mother yeeling at them for being lazy, and being downers on my birthday.  Even though sometimes she even forgets to tell me happy birthday, and last year I made my own cake.  But I am the perfect excuse for the boys bringing down her day.
I don't even like birhtdays.
I don't.
Why?  Because I have aged mentally, as well as physically.  So I look, and talk older than I am.  So what's the point of celebrating a birthday I should have celebrated five years ago? 
No, point.
I do know what I want, actually, now that I think about it.
I wanna be left alone.  That means no yelling, no txts, no insults.  Just me being me, with no one around me who is human.   I want everyone to just hop in the car, and drive off for the day.  Leave me alone at the house, just forget that I exist. 
Yeah, I know that when they leave, I will probably ball my eyes out becasue they left(That's puberty for you, as well as female hormones) but give me a few minutes of my pity party, and I will be doing the damn thing. 
By that I mean I will take pictures, climb trees, walk around, listen to my blaring music, clean and dance around the house(yes clean, I have to clean when I'm alone, I don't know why, but I do), play soccer with my dog, and surf the web, as well as work on my book I am wriing. 
And I will be smiling the whole time, well, after the crying fit.  But you get my drift.  I work my best alone.
I don't want to be alone all of the time, but I'm always surrounded by people, and it feels nice to get a load off of people in my space. 
But it hurts when you guess on what I wnat, and you get it wrong.  It does hurt, so it's best if you don't try at all. 
This years family birthday, if we go to the city, is going to see this movie we all want to see.  It makes everything equal, I know, because my brothers feel neglected when someone has a birthday on their birthday, and they don't get anything out of.  But it's perfectly fine when they get the special treatment on their birthday, but it figures.
My older brother gets all silent broody, and texts his girlfriend more than talking to us.  He would much rather allow her to tighten his leasha round his throat(metaphorically, of course) than celebrate my birthday.  My younger one starts crying everywhere we go, and talks about how unfair it is, and starts to pick fights for attettion when that doesn't work. 
Which gives me another reason for me to hate my birthday: It doesn't seem to be my actual birthday.
Forget the fact that threw out the whole school year, I scrape my money together or whenever I can get something for free, I can't think of anything I want so I get something for them for their birthdays.  I right now have a bcasketball for my older brother, mineral rocks for my younger, an old/new movie for my sis, and I am still searching for something for my mom's birthday next year.
I don't even know why I do this.  I just do, think of it like an instinct for whatever "personality" I have. 
I actually belive I don't have a personality, but a mix of them, if you get it. 
People, when they are kids are automattically labeled byt there behavior when they are three.  Which sucks.
I was always crying when I was a kid, so I am labeled a Drama Queen.  People can say that, but really, I know I am a little.  But I am also a little of everything else.  But the Drama Queen stood out the most, so I got that beautiful label.(insert sarcasm here)  But becasue kids are forever told that they were dumb as a baby(blowing spit bubbles or motorboating around the house, rebellious(peeing on doctor who gives you  a shot, fighting the veggies as a kid) or completely oblivious(not knowing your own anem at two!  The horror) 

Heads up people, we were also eating dirt or glue.  Do you really want to figure out our future by the way we took a nap?  Or what our poop looked like after drinking milk? 
If someone is told repeatedly, their whole life, something about them, they believe it.  So you tell your kid "That you are so shy," they will mentally supress all other parts of themselves that don't relate to being shy. 
I am a bit of everything.  People try very hard to label me, but really?  I don' care.  They can say this, but someone else can say another.  It's a different outlook for everyone, because of their different personalities.

You say I wasn't bright when I was younger, and a Drama Queen.  I am passing all of my classes with fying colors, I don't really think of myself as much as Iwwish I did.
But that's just me.  Not you, not him, not her.  Me.  Accept it, move along.