Three nights ago was New Years Eve, and I must say it was quite magical. I had loads of fun with my parents and grandfather eating a delicious meal and reminiscing about the past twelve months. Right around midnight my father and I went to set off fireworks on the beach.
New Years has not always been a great time for me. I think it’s a challenging hurdle for anyone in the throes of depression or even just a rut. Everyone is celebrating in full force, exuding joy and excitement. There’s that quintessential “midnight kiss” (who came up with this? I’d like to punch them in the face); plus there’s almost always alcohol involved. And for an introvert in a negative emotional space with no one “special” to ring in the new year with this can add up to a hot mess. Because I know that I am particularly vulnerable to this New Years Eve blues “phenomenon,” around new years for the past two years I’ve spent time mulling over a blog post I really love. I find it to be a raw and honest reflection on NYE, and as a result I’ve found it to be quite healing for me.
And as I stood in the sand with my father, the fuses burning like sparklers against the dark backdrop of sand and ocean I felt alive. I felt more vibrant and full of potential than I have in quite a while. And I felt thankful. Because there was a day when I didn’t think I’d ever feel alive again. And there were days that my story could have easily ended.
I didn’t have anyone to kiss. I didn’t have friends to cheer with. I couldn’t feel my toes or fingers, but I felt alive and for that I was grateful.
I was thankful that there was air in my lungs. Because there are broken things that I was made to fix. My life is more than just my own. And I’m so glad I chose to fight.
Happy New Years friends. It would be great if the coming months would hold only good things for us all. But I know that we will stumble. Hard times will come. So my hope is that when they do, we will choose hope, and we will choose to fight. Welcome to midnight.