Looking back, 2015 was a year of healing, of growth, of change. Yet, 2016 felt very much like a year of stagnation and death, and depression. I don't mean in notable deaths, but in that it started off with a break up, that I didn't see coming. Followed by the death of a grandmother I shared no love for, but that affected my mother deeply. Then, just, nothing. I worked, until I didn't. I dated, until I didn't. I coped, until I didn't. And now, that period is over.
It feels in some way that the past year has been one long hang over from the radicalism that was 2015 and the change I accomplished then. But now, I'm anxious to get started again. Not that, I feel I have the emotional strength or tolerance to be on the front lines of the upcoming war against fascism. I used to, but part of this is accepting my limitations in terms of mental disability. Fighting a war does me no good if it makes me want to kill myself.
But, it does me continuing to rip down the walls that are put up around me, by family, by society, and by anyone else. I've already got ideas on where to start, it's just a matter of having that conversation with people. No one likes hearing they're enabling or participating in a regime.
One of the other aspects I've been thinking about is how different I feel as I enter my thirties. I find myself letting go of the social fears that plagued me for years. It's a complacency that I think comes with the constant rejection one faces being trans. You get used to being alone, to being unwanted. It's disappointing, it always is, but, you start to become numb to it. Callused, even. But also, more secure in who you are.
The main villain I face now seems to be the ennui and dread that comes with having nothing to do. The torture of having endless choice but no real inclination as to which way to go.
I find I take peaks at the old wounds underneath age old bandages. Yet, I don't dwell on them as much as I used to in years past. The time it takes me to heal seems to be decreasing and that feels good.
Yet, as I feel better and secure in this boat I call existence, I find I still have no real compass to navigate my destination. Only the lost hopes of stars that I continue to grasp at for fun.
The lows are there, of course, they are always there. But, they don't seem as deep as they used to be. At times like this I feel calm, relaxed, and just adrift. Let's get started with this year, and see what we can build.
