I hope you don’t mind if my New Year begins today. I had a goal to finish Mimesis by the end of 2012, but I ended up needing an extra couple of weeks. By the time I hit New Years Day, I was deep under the influence of the complex, chemically altered state that is end-of-project writing. I deferred the start 2013 until it was convenient. I watch a lot of Doctor Who; I’m fine with a slightly wibbly timeline.
2012 started a little late, too. A year ago yesterday, I walked into a therapist’s office for the fist time. I was afraid, confused, and in a lot of pain. I didn’t know what was going on, and I had no idea how long I’d be fighting it, but the year I thought I was going to have on January 1st ended when I sat down on that brown faux-leather couch and told someone that I needed help.
Yet 2012 was one of the best years I’ve ever had. It was hard. It was a fight. At times, it was an outright war. But it was good. It was very, very good.
I could list all the ways it was amazing. I could talk about races and novels. I could talk about friendships, about medication, about discipline and self-esteem. I could, and I want to. Over the last year, I found myself again. I didn’t know how lost I was, or how long the road back to me would be, but I walked until I made it back home. 2012 was a hell of a year, but it’s not 2012 anymore. It’s 2013.
The truth is, I don’t know.
I came into 2012 with goals. Some of those goals I met, some of them I didn’t, but I needed to chase them. Those goals were what kept me together when I was still falling apart. If I hadn’t made them, and if I hadn’t given them everything (even the ones that I didn’t reach), I might have been washed away during the bad times.
I don’t have any specific goals right now. I don’t have a project I’ve vowed to finish, or race I’m determined to run. I hope to write another novel this year, sure. Maybe shoot a short film, too. There’s also this really cool website for writers I want to build. And that’s not counting whatever I end up doing with Mimesis. My goal this year is to keep going. That’s it. To work through the fear, through the doubt, and through the pain. My goal is not to stop.
So, I’m taking inspiration from two places:
a friend someone I fear and loathe, and a song I’ve been listening to on repeat for weeks.
Instead of goals, I’m going with a theme. This year? It’s going to be an adventure. I’ll figure out what that means on the way. It doesn’t matter exactly where I go, or what battles I fight, so long as I keep going forward.
Or, as the song puts it: Here we go, life’s waiting to begin.