I’m diligently waiting for December to end. Well, more like I’m impatiently waiting for the shittiest year on record to conclude so I can turn the proverbial page and start anew.
There has been too much this year. Politically speaking, it’s been a raging, consistent dumpster fire with fuel added each day and not enough water to blanket the blaze. But we knew that. And if you disagree with that statement you’re on the wrong side of history and that’s a fucking fact. Every goddamn day has been a fight to live – to live with or without health care, to live with or without family due to deportation, to live another day without fair gun control, to live without crippling debt due to the craziest tax plan in the last generation. The exhaustion is real.
Personally, this has been the hardest year emotionally and mentally, maybe ever. It’s a miracle I’m alive. I survived a medication-induced suicide attempt in April that threw the rest of my year completely out of whack. I’ve had to re-learn what my purpose is and who I am and what is truly important to me. I’ve done a lot of fixing. I’m still doing a lot of fixing.
And long after that tornado I decided to stop denying who I am. I decided to stop hating myself. I chose to free myself from the mental prison I’ve built for nearly two decades. But this didn’t come easily and it certainly isn’t something I can even write about yet. I’m there with those I need to be there with. And that’s all still a struggle.
And not long after that I decided to vocalize my #metoo story and stop blaming myself for the disgust and embarrassment I was feeling. Thank god for Silence Breakers because I’m unsure I ever would have done that without reading and listening to story after story. I felt validated, less alone, less crazy. I’m still reeling from the aftermath.
And amidst all of this were multitudes of other personal failures and near-misses and nearly last chapters. Some small, some earth shatteringly massive. Some I’m still working on.
Plus, I’ve lost many this year. I’ve misjudged a few friendships and let go when I needed to, or backed away for a while until things worked themselves out. This year has been one, long period of grief.
I stood outside last night as the snow came down and the sounds of my neighborhood were absorbed into the walls of white and I was reminded that the world will go on and on. No matter how fucking awful the moment is or how badly life feels it will always go on. There’s no stop button, no pause. There is no choice because our beloved Earth doesn’t slow, it doesn’t discontinue. We have no real options other than to work through our hells. It’s sink or swim. Live or die.
I’ve worked through my hell.
I’m throwing up my middle fingers; 2017, I never want to see you again.