it's been... a year 𓆩♡𓆪

on feeling like you're moving backwards

When I was younger my New Year’s resolution was always just to have a better year than my previous one.

That’s realistic for a little while. Like when you’re still living in the same place as your best friends, running a business that by all accounts is ‘doing well,’ and the people around you are happy and healthy.

It stops being realistic when life happens. Time does that thing it always does and keeps ticking along. You lose loved ones, you move away to a strange new place and have to accept that it didn’t work out, the business you run starts to feel like it’s drowning you, and suddenly you’re 26 and unnecessarily thinking about taxes all day. You start to wonder if you’re qualified to do any of it: the work, relationships, being a normal person enjoying a normal life.

I always spend New Year’s Day in isolation, down by my favourite lake. I like being able to avoid the expectations of having a cRaZy night or having to share goals with a group of people who want to get fitter or climb the career ladder - not because they are bad goals, but because I’m jealous that they know what they want. I don’t think this is unique to me, I’d say if you’ve ever struggled with your mental health you’ll understand the discomfort that comes with sitting down and reflecting on the past year, especially if you don’t feel like it’s been a good one.

Crazy to think that on the outside this probably looked like the best year of my life. Landed a dream book deal, went to Lisbon to write that book, spoke on a stage in New York, met some of the writers I adore the most, got closer with all of you here. The guilt is that I’ve had to try really hard to enjoy it. The guilt is that I won’t get to relive these moments, so I have to hope my memories at least rose-tint them for me. The guilt is that I can’t remember the last time I felt real joy but other people have it so much worse, so why can’t I just get over it? The mind is a fickle thing.

Everything feels a bit backwards - like the more I’ve experienced, the less brave I’ve become. I used to travel without fear of what could go wrong and now I’m Googling how close I am to a hospital in every new place I go. I used to post online with a type of gusto that only comes with naivety and being able to ignore all the people/ trolls/ bots yelling at me for disappointing them, and now the place I felt so at one with freaks me the fuck out. Can anyone else relate to that feeling - like you used to be a fun person, and now your brain is plotting how to leave the gathering before you’ve even arrived?

It will get better - it always does, but I’m writing this because I think my real job here is to be your friend, and friends tell each other things. That, and talking to you about this kind of stuff usually helps me feel better. By the time you’re reading this, I’ll be back in New Zealand for the summer hoping to find some grass to touch, some joy to chase down, and maybe also a therapist??? (Kinda a joke but also not really.)

Thank you for sticking around and giving me all the best bits of this life - I really can’t wait to see you next year!!!!!