looking backwards

December 31, 2012

2012 was the year of waking up again.

it’s evening out, and I’m beginning to think that I’m going to spend New Years’ Eve like I spent Christmas, which is alone in my house with the internet and books and perhaps the stray persistent cat with a curiosity about my living arrangements. the light through one window is lovely. I haven’t been outside all day.

there’s the wind, setting off the vines growing up across the backyard fence. I think they’re roses. the neighbours are invading us with roses.


I have a soft fog in my mind when it comes to the past year. I have a soft fog in my mind when it comes to the past; memory is a difficult thing. I spend as much of my time trying to forget things as remember, which leads to giant holes in recognition. I spent a lot of this year playing with the on-off switch of my consciousness. I spent a lot of this year struggling to be conscious, which is more than can be said for the year before. straight after university, I sunk blind and foolish into something that would be a rest from the thing that university had turned me into. I spent a lot of last year with my brain off, recuperating. towed blind and miserable and sleeping.

this year I started waking up again. getting slowly better. it is a good thing and a bad; conscious, I realise where I am and what I have left, which is nothing very much; and I realise what I am, which is nothing very much. unconscious, at least I can merely function and survive. being awake meant being aware of entirely how stuck I was with no visible means of escape.


these are the good things about this year: I stopped being depressed. I started wanting small adventures again. I felt myself uncurling slowly, focusing slowly. In March I went to Hong Kong, which reminded me that I was less trapped than I thought I was, that I had, perhaps, other alternatives. I gained a new and fascinating role in choir, and sang Mozart’s Requiem. I remembered that I can create things, that I am alive when I create things, even while working on a difficult project with a difficult person. I learned a new appreciation for my flatmate. I had good times with my friends. I learned to look after myself. I learned that I can’t depend on anyone to save me.

these are the bad things about this year: I learned to look after myself. I learned that I can’t depend on anyone to save me. I learned that I am responsible for own my wellbeing in the face of all my fears and all the grinding misery of the world and that I am entirely alone in this. I learned not to trust God. I learned that life is shit and I am not allowed out of it. I stayed in a job I cannot like and lived with all the small irritations of an altered living situation and stupidly noisy neighbours. yes, they get a mention. I learned how few options I actually have and how powerless I actually am. I learned that I am stuck. I learned how to stay alive, nonetheless. some days I am quite sure that is a bad thing.


I can’t say that I would prefer this year didn’t exist. I can say that I would prefer I didn’t have to exist. but this year was a year. I didn’t enjoy it, overall, but I doubt that’s the point. life is hard for everyone.

I am not a positive bunny. life is not conducive to being positive. and bunnies die.


so. here at the end of 2012, I am perfectly aware that I am stuck in some kind of limbo. the whole of this year, I was waking up to the realisation of this. 2013? I am looking to un-limbo. to unstick. I don’t know how and it’s easy to be paralysed by fear. I’m certainly taking a lot of resetting naps. but I am looking to grow and be unstagnant, to lean towards hope. I am looking for ways of escape. I am looking to not be the same. I don’t really have the option of giving up anymore, fond as I am of the idea. but I will not let myself be here anymore, be like this, be stuck. and if I cannot run inwards anymore, let me run out.

I think it is time to take stupid risks and be brave. and foolhardy. and hopeful. or at least defiant.


(better than dying here)

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