my new years day
my new years day is.. not what some able bodied people might think of as new years day.
my new years day is tired. i was up until midnight last night. not because of fireworks or a countdown. but because i was scared to sleep because of nightmares. add that to the chronic fatigue (the symptom), and well.. yeah. im tired.
my new years day would probably be considered boring by most able-bodied people. i'm not dressed up in fancy clothes, im not going anywhere cool. the most 'dressed up' thing ive done is to put my hair up in a ponytail, and that has made my arms so fucking sore.. can you tell i rarely do my hair because of how much it hurts?
my new years day is painful; because my body still hurts from the day before yesterday.
i didn't do any big celebration. no countdown, no dramatic “new year, new me.”
i’m spending it with people who have hurt me, because that’s how things are right now.
i’m not really doing anything to mark the day, and honestly? i’ve never fully understood why it’s such a big deal. it's just another day.
but i think i’m starting to get it.
it’s not about the (nonexistent) parties or the outfits or the photos to me. it’s about the fact that you made it. somehow, despite everything, you survived another year. you’re still here.
and this next year? i'll have my chosen family.
i finally found my people, yknow? people who see me, who feel like home in a way i didn’t think was real. and even though today is as tired and painful and quiet and heavy as always, that thought makes it… softer. i guess.
we made it another year. and i can spend this next one with my people. that is what's special to me.