Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] wookiemonster for this link to Neil Gaiman's blog because I needed the reminder. I've said before that every year is better than the last, no matter what, because even if it sucked herpes pus, that means I've learned something- and learning means growing, and learning means being wiser than before, which is better, hence every year must be better than the last.

This last year was awful, in a lot of ways. My dad went nuts, finally lost his job, mom ran away to the hills out of fear, dad became homeless, I've been supporting whomever I can financially and feeling sucked dry because I'm too tired and sad to go be emotionally supported by my friends, and spent way too much time feeling lost and confused and totally useless- feeling like a walking paycheck, and even my paychecks haven't been that great because of all the time I spent laying in bed staring at the wall trying not to think about how stressful life is.

Neil says: "I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.

Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're Doing Something.

So that's my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody's ever made before. Don't freeze, don't stop, don't worry that it isn't good enough, or it isn't perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.

Whatever it is you're scared of doing, Do it.

Make your mistakes, next year and forever."

I've made a ton of mistakes this last year, and usually knew I was messing up as it happened and then justified it later. Didn't make it to work for the 3rd day in a row? Justified with the depression. Skipped social time to work? Justified with the fear of failing those who depend on me. Skipped everything to go be social? Totally freaked about losing my job, losing my apartment, being stuck with an overabundance of shit to take care of.

I almost feel like it was a lost year- even with the good times. And having been poor, I can guarantee that a certain amount of money = freedom and security, so I'm not even going to excuse my apparent greed. But without money I've got family and friends; I've got options and, even if I feel like I failed, have the kind of work ethic that won't let me sink into misery on someone else's couch (only my own).

I'm not sure on exactly what I want in this new and rather arbitrary portion of time, but I do want to get on with my life. I think I want to move, but I'm not sure to where. I want to get out with friends more, so either have to make friends here in Portland (after 5 years, go figure- and by "make" I mean strengthen the few ties I have, or go find new ones); I want to pay off my debt. I weep to pay off my debt. I want to build a base for the future I intend to have, the one with a solid relationship and kids and a house with a yard full of vegetables. But probably not chickens; I don't like chickens. I want to relax and let go of all this anxiety that's been hounding me most of my life. (I just typed "lie" there on accident. What does that say?). I want to reduce my stuff- and right now that mostly means books. It's weird, but the more time goes on, the more I realize an eReader is almost a necessity for a clean apartment. I'm addicted to books. I'd rather buy books over most anything, and I've been avoiding doing that so I could save up for an eReader of some sort. So, you know what? I might just do that.

Fuck it: Step 1 to declutter my life will be taken soon.

Steps 2-?? will take more time. And, now, I'm hoping I've drank enough coffee, fast enough, to go cleanse my bowels before showering and then eating and then going back to work. Even if I want to chuck it all and run away, I can't, so I should make this as fun as possible for myself. <-- and, see? If I type long enough without censoring myself, I can usually boil things down to a sentence or two, or discover new things about myself. So that's where it's at: I can't run away from everything, so I've got to change what I can and have a shit-ton of fun while I do it.

Take that, anxiety-self. And I hope this attitude lasts. It'll be fun to clear out some of the books, really. They tie me down. Whee!

April 2017

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