New Years

I have seen some of you poking about my FB page… I have been asked when am I going to post again. Yes I have been away for a while but for good reason. I do apologize for the delay my fellow fans and avid readers. 

It has been two years since I looked down on New Year’s Day 2015 only to discover that I had a tumour growing out of the right side of my groin. 

It has been two years since I ever imagined that I was going to be in a frame of mind to ever think if I was going to live or die. 

Unfortunately, because of that day I cannot celebrate New Year’s Eve. I cannot celebrate the New Year. New Year’s Eve 2015 (meaning changing from 2014 to 2015) I really thought it was going to be a good year. I thought I was going to have a new life. A new beginning. I thought my life was going to change for the better. I had a new job. I moved to a new country. Everything was new. Unfortunately, it changed for the worse.  

Within 2 months of the beginning of 2015 I feared I was going to die. It was not going to be a good year. It was going to be a shit year. 

Two years later I thought I was OK. Ok as in I had moved on in life. But New Years is a terribly bitter reminder of what changed me forever. Of what still governs my life. Of what still dominates my being. Once I hit the 5-year mark, when I hit the 5-year mark perhaps I will I be free. Until then I will be forever troubled by mortality. It will make me hate New Year’s Eve forever and New Year’s Day. It will never allow me to look forward to a New Years. Tumour you ruined it for me. 

Yes I should get over it. Yes I need to move on. 

Easier said than done. 

I realized this past New Years Eve that I am not over it. I am not past this superficial moment in life that we all give value to. I am not above and beyond ignoring this holiday that really doesn’t affect my life. Why? 

Because it affected my life whether I wanted it to or not. It infiltrated itself into my being and fucked with my non-conformist soul and made me a weak believing asshole of a holiday that is not a holiday. But when you wake up on New Year’s Day with a tumour what the fuck are you supposed to believe???? 

Had it been any other day in my life would it have been ‘easier.’? Had I believed in Jesus, couldn’t he have come up with a better joke? 

Was it a fucking classic? 

Not to say woe is me. But this feels like a fucking cliché… I am not dead. There are many others that are dead. That did not make it. I don’t feel blessed nor do I feel empowered. 

I have no explanation as to what happened. I have no solution for me because I have none for myself. What happened, happened. Perhaps I am dragging it on. Perhaps I am making too much of a big deal of it. All I can say is that New Year’s Eve will is not New Year’s Eve for me. It is plain and simple. For now, that is it. I may feel differently in the future but we are living in the present. I cannot celebrate New Year’s whole heartedly or even half hazardly because it means nothing.  

December 31, 2014 I truly believed that I was going to have a good year. A new life. A new experience. A new beginning. It was not for me. So, I have lived through it now for 2 years. Naively or maybe not, hoping that each year after that would be better. I almost died from food poisoning and I almost lost my mind thereafter. Natural consequences of dealing with cancer but I felt like I was losing my mind. I had lost my mind. That was the end all to become the be all. We can have our strength. We can be strong for a very long time. But when you lose your mind it is hard to back track.

I almost, and did a little, lose my mind. I was no longer aware of where I was or who I was. Who I spoke to. Who I interacted with. Any interaction was a welcome sensation from the emptiness I felt in my mind. Any interaction was a welcome interaction from the interaction that I did not have for days. I spoke to anyone. I talked to anyone. I drank with anyone. I adapted to anyone. I sympathised and emphasized with anyone. I needed a friend. I needed a being. I needed a supporting essence of which I cared nothing about. I needed humans in my circle. 

I had many. Most of which I did not know. Many of which I barely knew their names. They were props. They served a purpose. They meshed and amalgamated with the effects of alcohol. They were intangible. They were tangible but intangible at the same time. I cared but I did not care. They did not care. They didn’t know me. I didn’t know them. It was a matter of survival. 

All of this to say that New Years is not a day of celebration for me nor will it be for quite some time. Will that change for me? Sometimes I hope it will. I am not genuinely a bitter pessimistic individual. After all my mantra is “it’s going to be good year.” That in itself implies that I have hope for a good year. I do hope for a good year.  

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