Another year

I’m 28 and I feel old.

Now anyone older than me would say that is ridiculous, that I’m still young etc. but the big times of year always cause introspection in me. Not so long ago, although I suppose best part of a decade now, I used to get very fired up around New Year. It was driven by desperation and self-loathing admittedly, but the point was I saw the changing of the year as this ‘magical’ moment where I could turn my life around. I bought into the hype of the ‘new year’ basically.

I’m not entirely sure when my mentality shifted, during the last few years I lost hope I guess and I came to my current belief about the new year. That there is nothing magical or special about the clock ticking over from one day to the next. That the only difference about a changing year is that I’m a year closer to death – cheery much? – but the introspection does make me feel like that. Like it’s another year gone, I’m still a failure, still useless, and as much as I want the upcoming year to be my year I have no real faith that will happen.

The truth is “being better is so much harder.”

There is a reason that most new years resolutions fail within just a couple of days. It is easy to have the idea, to know that you ‘should’ do something, it is very difficult to have the discipline to day-in, day-out, make that happen.

I woke up this morning with the same aches and pains, the same heavy weight, the same whispers in my mind – it’s the same battle, and it being 2019 doesn’t change that. Yeah I set goals, and yeah I really want them to happen. I’m going to do my best but I guess even on the 1st I’m preparing myself for disappointment.

Fighting an endless war is exhausting and a date on a calendar doesn’t change that.