Auld Lang Syne
I'm aware that in the grand, cosmic scheme of things, January 1st isn't a particularly notable day. But there's something special about the New Year that always seems to come around at midnight. New Year's Eve is my favorite night of the year, even if it's all subjective in the end.
This year has been hell, and coming out of it has not been a path of glory. Recovery is a messy process, filled with frustration and relapses and struggle. It's taken a long time to rebuild my health, both physically and mentally. But even through everything, I've learned, I've grown, I've realized what's truly important and I've emerged a different person. The "caterpillar turning into a butterfly" metaphor is way overused but man, I think I actually get it now.
I realize I sound like I'm so wise with all my 21 years. Maybe this whole thing is humble-braggy of me to say. I know there's still so much more to learn and to explore, but at least I have the opportunity to experience what's still to come. I thought I'd reached the end and my story was over. I finally know now that it's only just beginning.
So here I am again, on my favorite night of the year. Steady as she goes.
Last year, I stayed up with the New York broadcast and thought about everything I wanted from 2018. It was supposed to be my year. I had plans for love, for success, for prosperity beyond my wildest dreams. The clock struck midnight and my heart surged — the year had officially begun, and it was mine for the taking.
... All my expectations crumbled very quickly.
I never anticipated getting sick. My clothes stopped fitting when I rapidly dropped to a 93-pound wisp. I slept over sixteen hours a day and struggled just to stand. My anxiety had spiraled into a hellish cycle of panic attack after panic attack after panic attack. Pain from old injuries resurfaced to a degree worse than the original, and it put a damper on my physical ability to march or snowboard or just climb the stairs at work. I was pathetic, and being acutely aware of it made it even worse.
My deteriorating health wasn't the only thing knocking me down, either. A sudden onslaught of depression made everything fade away. I cut myself off socially and lost interest in everything that used to bring me happiness. The Resti manuscript sat idle for months as I was barely able to force myself to keep studying for my degree, let alone stay on schedule with the book. Musical side projects were dropped. I lost so much faith in myself that it felt like I was floating through each day like a ghost. Through exhausted eyes I saw only that I was utterly hopeless.
The whole time, some little voice in the back of my head was in a panic, telling me that I needed to get back to who I used to be. You have to rediscover who you are! it told me. You need to get your old self back!
But I was completely shattered. There was no "old me" to return to. Everything I once was had been reduced to nothing, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do.
That was when I realized that finding my old self again was never the point. Perhaps 2018 destroyed me because I've reached a point in my life where I need to transform — the person I was is no longer who I need. It's time to take everything I'm made of and not go looking for someone I used to be, but set out to discover who I will be.
This year has been hell, and coming out of it has not been a path of glory. Recovery is a messy process, filled with frustration and relapses and struggle. It's taken a long time to rebuild my health, both physically and mentally. But even through everything, I've learned, I've grown, I've realized what's truly important and I've emerged a different person. The "caterpillar turning into a butterfly" metaphor is way overused but man, I think I actually get it now.
I realize I sound like I'm so wise with all my 21 years. Maybe this whole thing is humble-braggy of me to say. I know there's still so much more to learn and to explore, but at least I have the opportunity to experience what's still to come. I thought I'd reached the end and my story was over. I finally know now that it's only just beginning.
So here I am again, on my favorite night of the year. Steady as she goes.