A New Year

This last year has been hazardous to my health. I’ve had an ongoing mental breakdown, for the entirety of it, with glimpses of clarity. It began in the fall of 2023, and to begin climbing out of it I needed to destroy my psyche. I demolished the walls that held me in broken patterns and saw where to build them up new. This past year, 2024, was rebuilding, and it has been difficult.

I learned to listen. To begin listening to myself. I learned to hear my own aches, to recognise my pain, and to find ways to heal. Some things came slowly, especially after the shock of that breakdown and restructure. Some things have regressed after. In any case, I’m listening to myself now and that is a step forward. I’ve reached out for professional help, and that’s a step too.

At the start of 2024 I set some intentions, and I think I followed through.

I didn’t drop cannabis altogether, not for the whole year, but my use has been curtailed drastically and I feel much more intentional about it. It is easy to slip into old habits, and I have from time to time, but overall my use is much more manageable. I am less numbed and I feel better for it.

I kept a journal to reflect on what was good and ill. I discovered it was mostly ill, but that’s not the fault of my journal. Without that journal I would never have pursued therapy. I wrote a dozen poems worth sharing and a dozen more that I’ve archived, each of them is a piece of me.

I’ve learned to feel my negative emotions and respond to them - not react to them when it is overwhelming or too late - though I know this is still a lesson in progress. I’m sorry, Hannah.

I slowed down my day-to-day as much as I could. I had a stressful working year, especially through the summer and fall, but I almost always caught the sunset to bask in the vivid evening hues. I stare at the moon whenever I can too - in these winter months it sometimes feels as bright as the sun. I look up and watch the birds, listen to leaves rustling in the wind, I ride my bike to sit in parks and simply exist. All of this to remember that I am alive and that life is more than me.

This next year will continue those lessons, and expand. I have rebuilt with stronger foundations, but the work can never be done. It may be harder in some ways and I’m afraid, but I’ve acquired the tools I need to keep building, and I know what this material is capable of.

Moving forward means facing the truth. A process I’ve only just begun in therapy. I don’t know what it is or what it will be to face it. I don’t know whether I will wish to run away. But I have to face it, whatever it is, and I will. No matter how much it hurts, I will.

I will be present in myself and with myself. I have learned to listen to the negative and respond to it - to set boundaries that keep me and those around me safe from harm - but that’s only the first step. I will learn to hear the good too, at its full volume, without chemical aid. I need that golden chord to show me the way forward, because without it I have no guide.

I will work to lift those around me. Never to bring them down. I have much to room to grow, but I won’t downplay the ways I am already great, because I can help others be great too. It is neither pride nor vanity to recognise my own strengths. That’s part of the truth I must see.

This year, 2025, may be a year of reckoning, but it will be a year of growth.