I’ve tried my best to stay off of the 2016 hate bandwagon. I really have. It’s been trendy to bash this particular year, but 2016 has been, well…
How do I put this? When I look back at 2016, what can I say that adequately sums it all up?
Thanks Jeff Goldblum!
And it’s not even been shit because of a xenophobic piece of sentient raw chicken becoming the most powerful political figure in the world or the violence and family arguments that arose from Brexit and the rise of the alt-right, although those things are shit.
It’s not even the slew of celebrity deaths, although those have also been shit. But honestly, it’s not like 2016 physically went down to it’s local B&Q, bought a hatchet and murdered them with it’s own two hands. So the personification of a homicidal year who discriminates against the rich and famous is kind of annoying me to the point where I think I’m getting upset about the wrong aspect of this subject. But c’est la vie.
Well, not for the celebrities, I guess…
Anyway, this year has been shit because it seems like everybody in the world has been having crappy times in their personal lives. Well, except for Mike. Mike bought a house with the girl of his dreams and has just been handed a shed load of promotion prospects at his job. But Mike’s a cock so who cares? (Just kidding, big guy, you deserve all the happiness in the world)
But honestly, from one end to the other 2016 has been 365 days of hell for my personal life. I began January 1st having the mother of all panic attacks in a restaurant and am ending December 31st sat alone in my bedroom. Everything in between has been an exercise in betrayal, frustration and battling myself just to get out of the house most days.
I try to keep personal stuff off of here, but I’m feeling the need to vent and try to make some sense of this. You see, the thing with me is that one of my defining characteristics is that I’m loyal. More than a few times I’ve been compared to a dog for how loyal I am to people. And this year I’ve really paid for it.
I’ve paid for it because there have been a disproportionate number of people who I have cared for, trusted and even been in love with who have turned it around and shoved back in my face. I never really realised it before this year, but my loyalty leaves me open to attack from liars, manipulators and emotionally abusive, double crossing snakes.
I’ve felt used, chewed up and spat out this year more than I haven’t felt like that. It’s twisted me up. It’s made me reflect on my entire life, on all the times I’ve felt like this before, from people I’d never have expected it from. Those moments have always been few and far between, and there’s always been some rhyme or reason, or I’ve kind of seen it coming. But this year it seems like non-stop cruelty for the sake of being cruel.
Normally my anger, despair and other dark or negative emotions fuel me creatively. All I have right now is an infinite sadness that I can’t seem to escape from. I’ve been working on a few creative projects over the last few months, but I can’t seem to get inspired to do them. Even this blog, which began as a great outlet and a way to help me keep a weekly schedule has fallen at the wayside.
That’s not to say I don’t have great people in my life, because I do. I have great friends and a family who loves me. But my problem lately is that I can’t seem to read people’s intentions. People I’ve known for a long time, new friends and even strangers who I’ve only shared a few minutes with, I sit and question them in my head. I wonder when they’re going to turn, searching for the signs of what horror they’re going to inflict on me.
I don’t even sleep anymore, maybe a couple of hours here and there without the aid of medicine. I’m anxious, paranoid and my fight-or-flight instinct is on 24/7. I live most of my life inside my head with a proverbial wall between myself and the rest of the world.
Shit… How is anyone supposed to live or be productive in that situation?
A few weeks ago I decided enough was enough. I went to my doctor and had a long talk. I am currently on a waiting list for cognitive behavioural therapy. I can’t change what has happened to me. I can’t stop some people from being bastard coated wankers with dick head filling. I can’t stop myself feeling anxious sometimes. I accept all of that.
I also accept that it’s okay to be scared or sad sometimes. Hell, sometimes those are the only appropriate reactions to a situation. But I don’t think it’s okay to let despair run your life.
Am I hopeful?I don’t know. I often think that the best years of my life are behind me and I don’t have much to look forward to in the future. But fuck it, might as well give the therapy a try. What else am I going to do for the next 40/50 years?
I imagine things will probably get worse before they get better. But one way or another, I have a strong desire to kick my anxiety in the balls. So this little rant is me polishing my boot.
Or maybe I just need to get laid. Who knows?
Thanks for reading, I’ll try to be a little less self indulgent/personal in the future.
Until next time, stay safe and enjoy your new year’s plans.