So. It’s been a week. Seven days out of the new year; enough time to fully understand, analyze, and statistically map out precisely how you want the next twenty years of your life to pan. Or, you know, the next twenty seconds. As for my review of 2018: imagine swimming through dark ocean depths, never knowing where or when you’ll finally find a pocket of air.
Yeah. That bad. I’ve never believed in New Year’s resolutions, mostly because of that first week or so, when even the most sincere of goals shuts down faster than our government. I just don’t believe in waiting for a chance to change what I already know I don’t love about myself. Now, that list is long as hell. What we love and hate about ourselves all boils down to the parts we want to save and the parts we want to change, but desperately fear we can’t. It’s a lot easier to hide the ugly elements so other people can guess at the reasons for our toxic behaviors than it is to be upfront with how we really feel, for our own sake. It’s the seconds that matter. The impact of our choices lies in how we spend them. I want to focus more on bravery. I think it defeats every habit I hate most about myself. Whether it’s writing more, submitting more, reaching out more, getting out of the house more, every potential action I face is one that requires courage. It takes having a true fear to face that fear in the first placed. A lot of my depression stems from a fear of failure (obviously originating from delusions of grandeur) as well as a fear of rejection (we up to fifteen letters y’all). I had to catch and correct myself, because I realized I was becoming That Person. The one who scares easily at the hint of a challenge; who balks at the sheer size and weight of competition; who talks herself out of opportunities so that they never have the chance to deny her first. Within this first new week a lot of the same old bullshit has already taken place. My new laptop had already been stolen (da fuck), I was rejected from another contest, rejected from a higher-paying job (whatever, fuck y’all too), and was already experiencing death in the family. And that served as a vital reminder. Just because there is a new year, it doesn’t automatically imply that the Shit-o-Meter is reset with good karma and dumb luck. Shit is always going to happen. Your determination is always going to be tested. You can’t choose every failure you experience. But you can choose whether or not it causes you to fail. That can only happen if you stop and choose to be That Person instead of That Bitch. I realized, no matter what, I don't want to be the type of person who wants to do something but doesn't, and all out of fear. These ugly, sad bits are the parts you can’t skip. I used to believe that it was enough to keep pushing just to spite other people or other institutions. But it isn’t. I want to move forward because I’ve earned it; because I adapted and grew from the hard times instead of succumbing to them. The habits you've used to upkeep your comfort zone in your profession, education, and relationships aren't helpful. Survival mode won't serve if you want to level up. It requires self-discipline and accountability rather than constant self-placation. Don’t short change your true ability. Imagine swimming through dark ocean depths. Imagine giving up before discovering a cave, with a treasure trove, just one kick and one gasp ahead of you. If there’s any factor of 2019 hype I agree with, it’s this: Everything you want is absolutely attainable. You just have to be brave enough to swim for it.
1 Comment
Garai
1/7/2019 05:35:14 pm
Well said. I feel like my mentality moving into this new year wasn't a immediate shift but a gradual push towards accepting the present to help it better build the future. The only thing the physical "new year celebration" did for me was confirm that time was going to march on whether I was ready for it or not. This year I feel like my definition of "ready for it" was as close to my truth as I've ever gotten.
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