It’s almost the end of the
world year, and that can only mean one thing: lists. We make lists to commemorate the end of a crappy year, and then we make new ones to overload ourselves with selfish hopes for a new one. I for one, love this tradition, and plan on sharing my morsels of self-loathing with you!
2012 was no highlight of my life; I didn’t achieve a coveted trophy or pop out a baby. My year consisted mostly of dieting, dating, and then a long dry stretch of celibacy which included learning how to cook. I didn’t learn how to “act like a boss”, though I did finish Mass Effect 3 five times before realizing that freewill is a lie, and that the ending will never ever ever change.
I could use this opportunity to toot my own horn, but what fun would that be? It is the holiday season, after all, and no one wants to hear about how perfect someone else is as air hockey. So, as my gift to you, I will spotlight my failures for your amusement. Here are the top 5 goals I had for myself in 2012 … and how I failed at them epically. Because everyone loves a hot mess.
Goal 1: Lose the love handles … and hate handles, and butt handles, and every other handle
Every year, I vow to lose weight. And every year, I gain it. 2012 actually started out successfully; I lost 20 lbs and was feeling like a proper sexy beast. I could wear pants without having a muffin top, and people started mistaking me for a
hand model person who could go without an oversize hoodie. I was running regularly, something my lazy bum didn’t even do in high school, and I was feeling good about myself. I hoped I would run into my ex, the one that called me fat every which way without actually saying the word, and let him feast his eyes on my lack of lumps.
But then, after a failed move to California, I fell back into bad habits. See, I either don’t eat or I eat everything. There is no in between with me. Normal, healthy eating just isn’t something I can do. And so I either gain or lose. This time, I gained. I gained back everything I lost, and almost crept my way back up to my highest weight.
Of course, now I’m back to trying to get rid of it. The cycle repeats itself. And of course, I’m swearing that this time, I won’t gain it all back. You know that saying, “The definition of stupid is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results?” Yeah, that’s why I never got into Harvard.
Goal 2: Move to California
I got this brilliant idea in my head in January 2012: I was going to get rid of most all of my belongings and move to California to reconnect with my older sister. It was going to be amazing, I tell ya! Palm trees and sunshine!! I was going to meet celebrities and buy Louis Vuitton and things were going to be merry.
I sold most everything I owned, jumped on a train, and began my 2 week venture to Southern Cali. Out of
fear respect for my sister, I won’t tell you the details about just what exactly went wrong … just know that it did. There were palm trees and sunshine and deadly sexy men … but alas, it just wasn’t enough to fix what was broken.
Coming home with my tail between my legs was humbling, to say the least. Another one of Loony’s big moves, and another one of Loony’s “Um, I have to move back home for awhile….”.
Goal 3: ‘Date’ someone
I am not much of a “dater.” I either get into a full-fledged relationship with someone or things remain very… casual. I don’t do dinner-and-a-movie nights, or what-bar-should-we-hop-tonight things. It’s usually just ”lets move in together” or “my bed or yours?”
So, in light of the breaking up with my ex (we gave it a horrifying ‘second go’), I decided that I would spice things up in 2012 and try dating. I wanted nothing serious; no games or drama or window-spying. Just something normal.
Things went okay, for a bit.
Guy #1, after one late night date of playing Skyrim, decided he wanted me to meet his mother. After a second date of roller skating, I called it quits. It, according to him, made me heartless.
Guy #2 was adorably quirky. Another nerd type – knew the ins and outs of WOW – but this time, devilishly charming and handsome. We spent long nights talking for hours; it felt incredibly raw and natural to be around him. But he, too, ended up wanting more than I wanted to give at the time … and so things fizzled and burnt out.
Guy #3 was some kind of gangster dude from California. Did I mention I lived in a ghetto? We didn’t really “date” so much as stand outside looking at star constellations with his iPhone, while he was taking a break from his crack addiction. Oh, I didn’t mention that part? Oops. Needless to say, it didn’t work out.
The dating game was interesting, but it didn’t lead to any keepers. Now I’m just getting laid in the back of cars … without the drama of dinner and movies.
Goal 4: ‘Date’ no one
So I failed at the dating game, and I decided to stop dating/seeing/snoring with people all together. I would be a celibate lady that would wash her sorrows down with a glass of red wine, as she sung her cats to sleep at night. I would “find myself and love myself and learn how to ride a unicycle” before trying to date again. Plus, I was getting fatter, and I didn’t want to explain my fake “oh yeah, i have this weird water retention…” disease to a dozen minds.
Dating is overrated. Meaningless sex isn’t.
Sometimes, it does get a little lackluster and lonesome … but I realize that the only thing ”dating” has ever given me was giving up on my dreams. I live for myself and myself only, and move in the direction of my goals. If someone comes in and wants to be a part of that, taking me as I am, then I won’t close myself off to it … but otherwise, this spinster is a content one.
Goal 5: Start a blog
So I lied. This list isn’t all failure. I actually did start a blog, this blog, and have enjoyed the experience. I may have become rather flaky as of late, but I swear my heart is still in it. For so long, I have had all of these random thoughts just jumping and bouncing around in my head. I have been crazy; been called crazy. I have laughed and cried and suffered and triumphed. I have been in therapy, on medication, on drugs and drowning in alcohol. And all the while, the noise and thoughts in my head were trapped.
And then I started blogging. Nonsense. There is no theme, no trend. Sometimes I am up. Sometimes down. But I can sit here, looking at a blank screen, and feel comfortable and open to discuss whatever it is that I am thinking. I can finally get these thoughts out.
I call myself a lunatic because I wanted to take some of the power away from those who have called me names, and the stigma attached to mental illness … but the community and those of you that I have gotten to know, have made me feel the opposite of all that. I have been welcomed; I have been cared for. Random emails asking if I am doing okay. A few funny pictures to brighten my day (that rhymes!). Maybe being crazy isn’t so bad after all.
I want to make a small, teeny tiny dent in letting people know that its okay to talk about mental issues. That things don’t need to make sense. That we all have worth, no matter our faults or mistakes, or belief in the opposite.
2013 can be a change. If you or someone you know suffers from a mental illness, reach out. Don’t be afraid anymore.