Let’s hope I can finally keep a damn resolution. I really do suck at this, but I’m going to try again, because I’m insane.
“Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” Albert Einstein
Touche sir… touche…
This is going to be different. I know I say that every year, but this one is yet another different one. Meh. 2014 was the worst year of my life, and I shared it with the people closest to me, and we faced the burden together. I doubt I will ever be able to truly describe the heart ache, and really how badly I have been broken by my mother’s passing. Everyone handles loss differently. I handled it well for a while, but like everything, I crumbled eventually. I cannot TELL you how much THAT sucks. But if being with Chad has taught me anything, there is a silver lining to every dark cloud, and light in every dark time. I found it in him, and holy fuck, am I ever a lucky woman. But he also helped me see that there are other lights in the darkness, and every one of my friends and family twinkled like stars in my darkness, reminding me over and over again, that they are there, watching over me, just a wish away when I needed them. And for that, I am the wealthiest woman in the world. My network is hundreds, possibly even thousands of people, who have my back. I mean, holy shit. You watch me from afar, gently prodding to see if I’m doing okay, catch me if I start to fall, but retreat when I need to lick my own wounds and just be quiet for a while. The amount of understanding that my friends and family have around this whole thing has reminded me that even when I feel most alone, I’m just a reach away from some comfort, in whatever form I might need. That’s fucking amazing. I love you.
2015 is my year to try to heal. For a brief time I felt broken beyond repair, but thankfully, my mother raised me and taught me to be smart enough to recognise when I just can’t do it anymore. I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of hurting. I’m tired of feeling like I have no control. I’m tired of feeling like there’s always a disaster waiting around the corner. I’m tired of living in fear. I felt like I failed in 2014. If 2014 was a boxing match, life has delivered a TKO. Every part of me hurts, mentally and physically, and I’m fucking tired. I will be god damned if my mother’s death became two lives lost.
I am depressed. I am anxious. All the time. Fuck it. I might as well go into 2015 as an open book. Uh… Chapter One… Mental Dirty Laundry. Yeah. Why not? Like I said, fuck it. I’m going to write that at the top… right now. Writing is a process and stuff.
I’m starting 2015 with a shitload of achievable resolutions. Specific, but achievable. I’m not done with the list… oh yes, there’s a list. I like lists. It helps me sort my brain out. Some lists are weird. Why am I talking about lists? Oh, right, resolutions.
This is my first resolution. This blog. This “uncensored, unfiltered, probably going to get very non-politically correct at some points, probably going to be misinformed at some points, probably going to have someone call me a dumb fat bitch” journal for the coming year. My friends, you are welcome to follow this until I forget about it, or in a more unlikely event, see it through to next New Year’s, and keep up on “what’s up with that weird girl?”