Politically, this year was a catastrophe. Personally, I was on the mend from a brutal last year in NYC.
It's funny how long it takes for your body and mind and spirit to heal after a bout of depression. There is depression, and then there is after depression*. It's not like it's so easy to snap out of sadness when you've been comfortable sitting it for so long: it's lukewarm, and not that pleasant, but kind of comfortable enough that you stay in it.
I was fully depressed in 2016 (weren't we all?). I spent a lot of 2017 away from NYC, taking looooong trips to California and Europe. It was these trips that brought me into my after depression phase. A phase where a lot of good moments started to come my way, but I couldn't relish in them completely. I was learning how to live again and not reside in the darkness of my mind.
The move to Boston gave me a spark of life, but moving to a new place comes with its own set of complications. Being new is about learning who to hang out with, where to live, and how you fit into the city. It's been a good, strength-building process.
Every year around this time "New Year, New Me" posts come out. The New Year means new beginnings, it's true; but that doesn't mean it'll always be this HAPPY AMAZING FANTABULOUS year. Sometimes it'll be a crappy year. Or a year of growth. Or, maybe, our best year yet.
Still, we strive for that best year yet, and I can't be mad at us for trying. By us, I mean humans and our simple, lovely ideas of having an eternally happy life, however misguided that may be. While we strive, I'm happy knowing that 'losing our way' does not mean we are lost completely.
2017, thanks for waking me: emotionally and politically. My year of after depression and being in a sleepy haze is no more.
2018, here I am, fully awake. Lovely to see you. I have big plans.
*after depression is not a real term, but it should be.