It’s one of those clubs nobody would ever choose to join, but nice to know you aren’t alone when you find yourself in it.
And I got the cat! 
My 30th. I’ll spare you the details but let’s just say that if your boyfriend of less than two months tells you to stop planning your own party so that HE can do it, tell him you appreciate all the help he can offer to you but that you prefer to host your own. Otherwise you may wind up w/ NO party (as you finally realize 10 minutes after being seated at a restaurant [optimistically hoping it’s a surprise party at this point]) and a chagrined boyfriend.
I hear ya. My 5th birthday was the first day of kindergarten. My parents took me to Burger King after … but I’m an only child and they were poor so there’s a photo of the three of us at Burger King with a big ole birthday cake and nobody else.
On my 25th my then-boyfriend didn’t have any money to take me out or buy me a present. But he had plenty of money to buy his favourite waitress drinks on HER birthday which was two weeks after mine. Nice eh.
My 35th was a write-off. My husband and I had just got together and my birthday fell on his annual fishing trip. He didn’t want to ditch me on my b-day but still wanted to go on his fishing trip so I agreed to go with. Note that I am not an outdoorsy person at all and this was a tent-camping trip. It rained all weekend, was cold, and I didn’t know anybody. I would sit by the fire for a bit…go to the bathroom (nice bathrooms for a campground, thank goodness)…cry…pull myself together and go back to him and his friends…later on go to the bathroom again…cry…repeat for 2 days.
Thankfully my fantastic birthdays far outnumber the not so great ones.
Well, my worst one had been my 20th - my BF at the time dumped me.
Until last year, when a horrible thing happened and one of my friends was killed.
That’s obvious - because she didn’t dump him on the spot (probably adding, “But this is your fault, so I’m keeping the ring!”) when he showed up late and ruined her plans.
Spent my twentieth birthday in hospital after a nasty accident that required three operations. Spent my thirtieth birthday with my right leg in a cast after a skateboarding accident that required two operations.
I was somewhat relieved that I survived my fortieth.
My first wife left me in December, and I was utterly devastated. I spent Christmas season alone and miserable, hoping vainly she would change her mind.
She felt JUST guilty enough to take me out to dinner on my birthday six weeks later. That pity date was by far the worst birthday of my life.
Wow, some of these stories make mine (pneumonia, twice, at age 10 and age 15) pale in comparison. I didn’t even end up in the hospital.
12th birthday. My mother, pissed off at the unfairness of her life, kept threatening to take back all my presents. My father wouldn’t let her, resulting in a raging fight between them. Bitch.
Partly because it was 10 days before the wedding, and she had far more important things on her mind. If this is the sort of thing that ends a relationship, the relationship wasn’t worth much. The 17 years since have had plenty of ups and downs (downs usually caused by my stupidity or shit luck), so the question is probably more “Why hasn’t she left me yet?” I’m glad she hasn’t, and on balance, I’ve got it pretty good.
I just didn’t care enough about my birthday to see the big deal. In her family, birthdays were a big deal, so if I had recognized that, I shouldn’t have scheduled the interview, nor gone out after it.
This year, it was another workday, and outside of my wife & daughter (Facebook announced it to the world so there were those acknowledgments), nobody noticed and I didn’t announce it.. I’m fine with that. I did get a store bought pie and my little one sung to me.
I don’t feel like giving too many details here, but I spent my 36th birthday in the emergency room with my wife who appeared to have some sort of acute brain injury. Fortunately she gradually got better throughout the day, and went from barely able to make a coherent statement to talking fluidly but still not remembering who was president. She fortunately got back to normal after a couple of days.
But I’m hoping that I won’t ever top that.
1992, my 32nd birthday. My beloved Gordon Setter Holly had been sick for a couple days and was staying at the vet while he ran tests. He called me the morning of my birthday and the first words out of his mouth were ‘it’s not good news’.
My baby girl had cancer and had to be euthanized.
On my 20th birthday I did a ton of ecstasy and had a really, really, really bad time. Mood-swings, paranoia, tachycardia, throwing up, the works. Fucking sucked balls 
Memorable in a not fun way:
21st: Dated a great girl (from a different college) the summer prior to birthday. Visited her at her school and had a great time. Talked almost daily on the phone. Birthdays were 2 days apart, so we made plans for me to come down and spend the weekend at her place. The day before the trip she calls and tells me out the blue that I’m clueless and that she’s been seeing someone else and that the trip is off.
25th: Spent the night before out drinking with friends, since my birthday was Election Day and I had the day off from work. Woke up with a hangover that to this day has never been topped in the agony department. Crawled out of bed at 5pm to go vote.
Wanted to die.
My wife and I got talked into attending the World’s Fair with my parents plus my brother and his wife. Day two was my birthday, so the subject of dinner came around.
“What do you want, Steve?” Me: “Thai food.” Long discussion about what a bad idea that was.
“Well, what else would you like, Steve?” Me: “Well, how about that nice looking English pub?” Another long discussion ruling that out.
“Anything else, Steve?” Me: “I wouldn’t mind trying that vegetarian place over there.” More discussion, and as you guessed, ruled out.
“How about burgers, Steve?” Me: <muttering> “Whatever. Fuck. Let’s just go to McDonald’s.”
This made everyone happy except me.
I was around nine or ten and someone stole one of the looseleaf pages of the USS Enterprise blueprints from out of the portfolio which I’d just been given as a birthday gift. Still not sure when it happened, exactly. Dick move, man (boy), whoever it was.
I was six. My three (much) older sisters set up a really cool party for me and nobody came.
My birthday is very close to Christmas. I rarely got a party. For the most part, presents from family were called “combined” birthday and Christmas presents (which were actually just my Christmas present. I hate my birthday.
Must be a lot of us born this time of year.
I am another one with a birthday near Mother’s Day and I also had to ‘share’ my celebration with mom. Not that it was horrible going to dinner and the annual symphony concert with mom, but it wasn’t the fun birthday parties my contemporaries got.
My dad didn’t die ON my birthday the year I turned 13, but he was on his last few days. There was never even a mention of my birthday that year.
I am not even going to bother, after reading Shagnasty’s birthday i don’t think i have a right to say a word