A few days ago, I jokingly referred to tonight as New Year’s Eve. If you don’t know, my father unexpectedly passed away last year and tomorrow is the one year anniversary of that date.
2021 wasn’t half bad, well only half of it was good so I guess it was half bad. Sure the year had a promotion and a passing score on the licensing exam, an awesome camping trip full of hikes and waterfalls, plenty of good food, nice drives and tasty cocktails. It also had my dad in a nursing facility for the better part of the summer recovering from a stroke, the same facility where they had a Covid outbreak the week I was supposed to be visiting him. Then, it had the heartbreaking, days long dying and death of my cute, funny and oh so sassy dad. Oh yea, two weeks before my birthday.
Okay, so, 2021 was half bad.
I was happy for the year to end, I tried my hardest to embrace healing, going to therapy, stop binge drinking tequila in my underwear, eat more vegetables, try to losing the 20 depression pounds, crying less, making more dead dad jokes, and finally moving into a new apartment. Hello, 2022!
2022 started out on an okay path but it got bumpy just weeks after we signed the lease on our new place. There were days then weeks and then months of crying, talking, arguing – all while I was getting my independent license and then – a breakup. Just starting to feel like a human again, trying to remind myself that I could survive the death of my dad, and then being faced with having to survive the death of my relationship. Sure, therapy helps, more tequila helped, sleep, crying, eating my feelings, it all helped. I started to style the apartment that we never got around to decorating. I started hanging out with people from work, created an office in my apartment, spent time with a new guy for the first time in over a dozen years and again finally started to feel like I was gonna be all right after all.
Weird ethical shit and policy and procedure infractions at my job? Causing me frustration, for sure, but also concern for that license I worked so hard for, the fear that staying in that role could negatively impact my carer moving forward and so, you guessed it …. resignation.
So here we are, on the eve of the night that started what I don’t think is an exaggeration to call the worst year of my life … and while I don’t see tomorrow as a happy day, though I plan to celebrate my best guy by making his favorite dinner and using it as an excuse to overdose on black and white cookies … I truly hope the day is the start of a better year.
happy new year, to me.