I had this spiel planned out about resolutions and the significance of annual rituals to human society, but? Fuck that.
2017 kind of passed me by. It’s been ten months almost to the day that I left my dad and step mum in the dust and tried to make a change for myself. Ever since then the days have blended together and, as a result of a mix of amnesia and dissociation, I have managed to miss almost the entirety of everything that has happened in the last year. I couldn’t fully appreciate the people who supported me while I was fearing for my life and struggling to find somewhere to spend the nights. I couldn’t fully appreciate the families that took me in to their homes as a stranger and made me feel so welcomed. It bothers me that I can’t remember their names or faces.
But despite that, I regret that I’ve neglected to take care of myself, too. I expected that, once my aggressors were out of my life, I would be okay. Obviously that was naive and untrue; I left one bad situation and landed myself in equally hot water. But I’m safe now, and soon I’ll be able to access the treatment I need to move on from the trauma in my past and learn to cope with my emotions rather than dissociate or hyper rationalise to escape them.
Therefore, my message to you is that someone is always thinking of you. Whether or not you set a resolution this year, take care of yourself because somebody really cares about you.
2018 is the end of a year of hurt, and a new opportunity for us all. I hope it treats you well.
