If you were to sit me down in front of a shrink and have them examine the inner workings of my brain for things related to the topic of “it’s almost 2022,” I think it would take days and weeks and months to sort it all out.
I just reread my first post of the year, 2021.
I intended to embrace every feeling that came my way. I didn’t realize exactly how strongly that would happen, but here we are.
I didn’t know the loss that was to come, the couple weeks of maskless normalcy we got to have, the enjoyment I’d get adjusting to my city that feels more like home now, the joy I’d get from seeing my husband plays drums again.
Did I embrace the feelings too much? A bit. Went to grief counseling for that. Came out on the other side.
Yesterday was the solstice. It was so dark. It’s been a dark year or time period. I’m losing track of time and how long we’ve collectively been in this fever dream. But it’s not a dream. This is real? Is this real? I could do some real crazy laughing about the fact it’s nearly been two years of not normal. But it’s the new normal. I think we all see images of the Before times and wonder “where is your mask?” and “how are you in a crowd so large?” It’s weird. And here comes 2022 with a new wave. Christmas with my family isn’t happening on Christmas this year. That’s weird. We can do it later, but that’s weird.
Some good things are coming for me soon, hopefully for you too. It feels weird to be excited about it, so maybe that’s what I settle on for the coming year. Just be weird. Know everything is weird. Keep feeling too much, but don’t drown. Weird balance. weird.