{ a long(est) post for a long(ass) year }

i've been avoiding sitting down to write this, but it has to be done or it's going to keep taking up room in my chest --- room i don't have and don't want to keep giving up.
this isn't the unabashedly hopeful, endlessly inspiring first-post-of-the-year you've been seeing all over the internet. it's also not the real-but-not-too-real-and-conclusively-optimistic type of post that occasionally crops up all over the place. there you go. you've been warned.

truth: i resent this new year.
truth: i haven't put 2013 behind me.
truth: i don't have electric thrills running through me, morse-coding the knowledge that "2014 is going to be the best year yet" all over my insides.

furthermore, i've been having a hard time relating to those who plunged into the new year with brand-new souls and bright, fresh faces. i disconnected from social media because with every effusive grandiose mini-speech about how 2013 "had its ups and downs" but so-and-so "had a feeling" that 2014 "was going to blow all other years ever out of the water" i just got angrier and more disgusted.

i also found myself without any real new year's eve plans, kind of on purpose. expectations are always out of proportion for events like NYE, and that kind of situation (disproportionate expectations, underwhelming reality) always throws me off. actually, the only person i wanted to see on new year's eve was myself. for the first time in my life, i had a specific and articulated desire on this day: to spend new year's eve in solitude. to attempt to process things that have happened this year and go into the new calendar year in quiet strength. the best part was, i didn't feel at all motivated by self-pity or misanthropic tendencies. it's just that every other option seemed frivolous and distracting. it also felt like i'd be avoiding what simply and truly needed to be done --- what i simply and truly wanted to do.

i made the mistake of telling one of my coworkers about my plans, and was told more than once that it was "the dumbest idea ever." (note to self: keep all solitary plans to oneself in this extrovert-ridden world, lest one wants to be made to feel utterly defunct.) i'm ashamed to admit i ended up hanging out with aforementioned coworker because i succumbed to peer pressure (and the LIE that spending new year's eve in solitude and intention was "dumb"). it wasn't horrible --- i drank gin & tonics with her husband while she (five and a half months pregnant) made half-joking, half-bitter comments about our level of inebriation from the couch. (okay, maybe it was kind of horrible.)

so why am i here again, rambling endlessly on and posting more bedhead-centric, makeup-absent selfies? these were taken the morning of january 2nd, the day i was planning to write this post. i woke up feeling...empty. like a clean slate, but not in the way you'd think. just...like...nothing. apparently i'd successfully voided myself of expectation, and therefore, disappointment. what an achievement! and yet i didn't even feel human. hope and disappointment are essential parts of...being. the things i yearn for and the things i struggle with make me, me. the weight of them bears an impression on the earth. my loss and resilience displace the molecules around me. they make me real.

reality: i am not "over" 2013.
reality: i am not ready for 2014.
reality: 2013 is over, and 2014 is here.

the flipping of a calendar page has nothing to do with what's going on inside me. i'm just not one of those people. it makes sense: it's why i've lived in the same town since i was 8 years old and for the most part, not been bothered by it. this aspect of who i am is paradoxical and hard to explain: i'm highly affected by aesthetic details, smells, and the beauty of the natural world. but details like 12/31 turning into 1/1? my soul doesn't give a shit. which is also hard to understand, because i'm very affected by symbols, so why don't i buy into the most obvious symbol of renewal known to humankind?

so: things happened in 2013. things i'll carry for the rest of my life.
also: i hate resolutions. i don't set goals because i'm terrified i won't achieve them. and being disappointed in others doesn't hold a candle to being disappointed in myself. not even close. now i'm hearing all of you saying, "but honey, if you don't set goals, there's no way you'll ever achieve them anyway...it's all in your mind! get after your life! do it! i know you can! 2014 is gonna be the best year ever!"

i've spent the last week impatiently skimming new year's resolution posts and scoffing. now before you discard me as a happiness-hating, bitter old hag, know that all that scoffing has been directed at myself. i think everything i feel toward new year's this year is small-hearted, grating, and pessimistic. i think the fact that i can't even make resolutions because i'm afraid i'm incapable of keeping them is pathetic. i'm fostering a lack of belief in my ability to surmount 2013 and i'm protecting myself from the merest possibility of failure in 2014 (which incidentally also portrays a lack of self-belief --- that i wouldn't be able to handle the sting of coming up short).

the thing is, i don't know how to fix it. it's easy enough to compile a list of things i want to do this year, but to actually believe in the person who made that list --- well, not only is that a pursuit so trite i could punch myself in the face, but --- i don't know if it's possible. and if i can't believe in myself, well --- isn't that the ultimate failure to rule all failures, the failure that precludes everything good?

at this point i'm asking myself (and if you've made it this far, you've likely been asking for the last twenty minutes): so where the hell does this leave me?

i have a lot of work to do before i'm "over" 2013. in fact, i may never "get over" 2013 --- and i'm okay with that. i think it's realistic to believe that there are things that happen in our lives that change us forever --- the pages of that chapter are wrinkled and warped, like they had water spilled on them. i don't need to pressure myself to replace ripped pages and turn in a pristinely bound year.

there are things i want to do in 2014. and they don't have to be "the biggest/best things ever." some people thrive on massively lofty goals. i don't --- they shut me down. i'm afraid to want things --- anything. but i can want things. i need to want things. i mean, forget can and want --- i do want things, so what's the point of pretending i don't in a fruitless effort to convince myself i'm impervious to hope and despair? i'm not a boundlessly energetic person, so i certainly don't have energy to spare lying to my own irrepressibly discerning soul. in that light, here's my list. it's easy and it's kind, which is just what i need.

1. what i want: to purchase a keyboard. i was born to make music and i think i might be good at it. and even if neither of those things are true, it's profoundly good for me to do musical projects. how to get it: i need to research what keyboard i want, get a price range, and start saving. i'm still paying off this new computer, so depending on the price, i might need to implement a saving project --- like putting aside money normally spent on coffee or makeup for a period of time.
2. what i want: to go west again. this is a big one --- i want to hit south dakota, idaho, and seattle this year. in fact, i feel like this is necessary to the health of my heart. how to get it: planning. and more saving. i might need to give up coffee and makeup for six months.
3. what i want: to put myself first. i've changed a lot this year. i think the desire to hibernate (that's been ongoing since october) is born out of the knowledge that i don't know myself like i used to, and that really bothers me. i want to learn the person i've become so i can try to do what's best for her. i want to listen to myself more carefully (because i was absolutely right --- i should've stayed in on new year's eve). i often feel neglected because i seem to be everyone's second string; just about everyone in my life has a significant other, a fiancé, a spouse, or a child that comes first by default. the truth is, i often put myself in that same spot: i'll take time alone if no one else has time for me. what the hell? how can i feel non-prioritized by others if i don't prioritize myself? how to get it: stay in when i feel like i should go out, but don't really want to. spend time alone on purpose, not just as a last resort when other plans fall through. indulge in my love of music. oh, and write. write. write some more.

it's not going to be easy. it's never been easy. i want to push everything away and eat cookies and watch netflix and wear yoga pants all day. i want to buy another lipstick when i'm feeling sad and restless and call it good. i want to fold and re-fold my clothing into neat color-coordinated piles in the middle of the night for that jolt (and illusion) of control. i want to disappear because that would be easier than facing the work and the wanting. i want to throw up my hands and say i don't know, i just don't know and give in because i don't know where to start. i feel like i'm on some cosmic playground trying to duck between two whirring jump ropes, bewildered and mesmerized by the motion. but what choice do i have? what can i do but begin? and if the ropes catch my heel or slap my shoulders, well, those cosmic rope-slingers will just have to start over.

i wanted to do

something, anything,

but i didn't know what to do.

so i did this.

this is my something.

{ jason watt }