In many ways, the first day of the year terrifies me. With the whole empty slate, set up a template scenario that lays ahead, it is daunting, to say the least, to imagine making a clean start, especially when you are carrying baggage. 

Baggage, man. What a fuckall concept. In so many ways, society molds us to be the sum total of who we are through our baggage but in others, this new year bullshit expects you to start afresh. If history is any indicator then my last year and this year were on to the same start—terribly discontented with life, missing people who are no longer around, miserable overall with the zest to do something so groundbreaking that I might fuck around and change my whole life overnight. 

Then there's the likeliness of dissociating that starts. In no time, the demons in my head tempt me with the aimlessness of doomscrolling and further fuelling the supply-demand relationship in my head. Do I have the attention of the gent I need? Oh fuck, I don't even have the gent, let alone the attention. 

I started journalling yesterday—by that I mean on pen and paper—something that I haven't dared to initiate since I was 12, perhaps, so give or take two decades later. I think it's acceptable for someone my age to talk shop about sex or lack thereof or men at large; which makes it easier to put thoughts to paper, even if they're to get in the wrong hands. The other thing is losing fucks to give—what's the worst case scenario, I die and someone in my life reads it or I am alive and someone reads it?—good luck to them. Really.

It occurred to me yesterday how tiring writing on paper seems now, even though my thoughts roll much faster there. Maybe it was the cold or maybe it was just enthusiasm for doing the one thing I love on the new year (writing) that I wrote like a motherfucker. For the most part, I was holding back on dissociating with a healthier coping mechanism, acknowledging by building a habit. 

Can I just say that I am tired of being my absolute best to everyone in my life and for this year, I'd love to give absolute hell to everyone I know. Nearly everyone in my life has taken my patience, kindness and love for granted and it's driven me to insanity in the past year and some of it continued to roll into today—a whole new start—imagine that. I am allegedly the butt of all jokes in public and private, someone who takes all the bullying and nonsense from people in and around my life and continues to stand next to people who not only do that but continue to disrespect my agency and boundaries. 

I only realised this is continuously happening when I was dining with someone recently and everything through that dinner was painful, in hindsight. The evening itself was heavy but if we leave aside the agenda that was set during the meeting, the snide comments, the remarks and the actions—all of it was incredibly off-putting in a way that it reminded me of others and everyone in my life who do it on the regular. Perhaps, it was a first in this company or it was truly pathetic that I came home a little bit shocked and over the next week, proceeded to unpack it at large alone. I had to remove myself from the situation at large, but since then have taken time to process and it is hurtful, shocking and painful to live through knowing that your vulnerabilities mean nothing more than a joke to someone you trusted. You don't have to have romantic feelings for someone to be human around them but I guess I am expecting empathy from people who have proven repeatedly that they have none to offer. The façade comes off and it did rightly so in time for the new year.

Since this evening (it hasn't been a week, actually), I have felt the complete need to build a safety net for my inner child and the wound it sustained over the years, especially as a kid—being the last to be picked for something, never finding people who could stand by me or hold me close and definitely those who thought it's okay to be inappropriate with their sarcasm. There's a limit to taking shit from everyone in your life and I think the year-ender episode sealed it for me. I have been triggered at large since that night and even the slightest of "hello" is heavy on the heart. Someone was over at my place to meet me today with a new year's gift for me and I swear to god, I had empty eyes and a blank face. I couldn't understand why this person wanted to show up for me, out of nowhere, and befriend me and talk to me without being hurtful. At this point, if someone hugs me, I'll break out howling. 

None of this bodes well for my mental health nor does it do anything for how I hold myself. I am transported back to a decade of learning to understand why holding yourself and standing for yourself is critical when nobody else does. In doing that, over a decade ago, I found people I call my best friends, and maybe one odd person in all these years has been able to see through the hurt and the noise around me to ask me if I'm truly okay. This last week when I was encountered by the question and love, I couldn't explain in words what was wrong. "Everything?" or "nothing?", neither cuts it. I don't know how to explain that everyone's words are hurtful and there is only so much fake smiling I can do in a day without screaming or crying that I need to be left alone if I can't be respected or allowed agency. The amount of backbreaking trauma I have faced and circumstances I have fought may not be extraordinary, but it is doing everything with high functioning processing ability that makes me resilient. I don't see myself as a victim but it would perhaps be nice to see someone hold hands once a year and tell me it'd be okay. Instead, I am left with alone to figure things out when going gets hard for all and when I do find my way out of it, I am rewarded with hurtful lines about dealing with it. I am at my last breaking point with my loved ones so imagine my surprise when someone I trust turned around to hold me when I was coming undone. It throws you off. 

But at the same time, you see all the irreplaceable bonds sealed with tenderness and delicate vulnerabilities about each other eroding with time and carefully crafted lines to hurt the other person. You could be a great friend but sometimes all that the other person needs are actions and not vacuous words. 

I'm so tired of holding on to empty new year wishes and responding with nonchalance that even the fake smiles and acts seem hollow and tough to follow through. It would perhaps be nice if someone could fake their way with me for maybe a day and it might actually make the rest of the year worth wishing someone a "happy new year!". 

I'm so bloody tired of new beginnings and new years and wishes and people claiming to like me or respect me. Either be so bloody monstrous that we are fighting each other in the battleground and getting ugly or leave me the fuck alone if you can't respect me or my agency or the person I am with you. It'll hurt me but I'll get over it like I did when I was 10 like I did when you hurt me. It won't be the first time someone would do that to me but atleast it won't have the pretentiousness of doing well by the first day of the year. 

All days suck just as much, equally and hard.