Of New Years and Pristine Slates
Wednesday, January 01, 2014
Fresh starts. Thanks to the calendar, they happen every year. Just set your watch to January. Our reward for surviving the holiday season, is a new year. Bringing on the great tradition of New Year’s resolutions. Put your past behind you, and start over. It’s hard to resist the chance at a new beginning. A chance to put the problems of last year to bed. Who gets to determine when the old ends, and the new begins? It’s not a day on a calendar, not a birthday, not a new year. It’s an event. Big or small. Something that changes us. Ideally, it gives us hope. A new way of living and looking at the world. Letting go of old habits, old memories. What’s important is that we never stop believing we can have a new beginning. But it’s also important to remember that amid all the crap are a few things really worth holding on to. — Grey's AnatomyNew Year makes starting over seem so easy. Feeling-wise it does. The new year gave me hope that somehow I still have all the time I need to change things and make progress. When a new year is about to take place, often times I feel I am emotionally capable of starting over. New Year is a metaphor for beginnings, clean slates, new start. Personally speaking, I felt that starting over was already called for a few months ago. But because I have always been this lazy and pessimistic, I instead took it a little slow and let things happen.
2013 was never a good year. From the beginning, I can say it doesn't look promising. 2013 was a downward slope of my 2012—a good year for me. 2013 had me feeling like a tree, stuck in a place with roots that held me back. I can hardly recall a good time. For the most part, I felt like I was on auto-pilot mode—just trying to get by. The latter part of the year, I found myself losing things I have treasured the most. I haven't been myself for the most part because I was just there trying to work on whatever life throws at me, never fighting back.
As much as it hurts, I think losing a relationship I value the most helped me get my ass off and finally do something for myself. It is indeed a spark I needed. But I never knew it would come to me in the form of a broken heart. After realizing how much I have been far from my core, I was pushed to the edge of change that's been waiting to happen. I was scared to lose someone. I was afraid to be alone. I was afraid to lose it all. But I weathered it out and managed to feel okay. It was then that I find this line true:
Only once you have lost everything are you free to do anything.
So I thought that losing everything gives me a clean slate. It led me to hit the self-destruct button—only that it didn't actually destruct the whole me—and that included September. More than a space, September was my companion. During her 3-month hiatus, I longed for the space I used to have. A space that welcomes my thoughts and creativity and keeps track of all the memories I have like what a journal does. There were moments when I was itching to find a space where I could blurt it all out but then it all just ended up as a yearning. One can only hope the bending and breaking stops and the rebuilding starts.
Realizing sometimes there's a need to break before rebuilding.So here I am now, giving September a temporary home. And this is me putting the horrors of 2013 to rest and symbolically giving myself the chance to create a new beginning too. The break happened. It's about time I work on the rebuilding process. I honestly do not know what lies ahead for me, but I am decided enough to take the first step and dive in. Everyday will be a challenge to be better than the day before. Everyday is a new opportunity to try again and make things work. I know it will never be easy. Like many people, I will fight daily battles just to make sure changes will occur. I know it's possible now because the difference this time makes is the determination. I have high hopes that soon enough the rebuilding process will be complete. And that you may welcome the better me.
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Au revoir twenty thirteen, you were never my year.
The Weepies – Not Your Year
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