On New Year's Day

New Years Eve is not a good time for introverts.

It's 2023. There are people I don't know everywhere, their drunken voices swirling around me as I stumble over the uneven gravel ground, pausing every now and then to smile brightly and pose for a photo. I'm dressed to the nines in neon pink, sporting a side pony, bright makeup across my eyelids, and hoop earrings.

I'm happy and excited for the new year. I'm just not happy to be where I am in the moment. It is the first time in 9 years that I'm not getting a new years kiss. Between INXS, Michael Jackson, and Cyndi Lauper, the music and dancing is devolving more and more into a mess and I'm watching everyone else gravitate to their people, while my person is half a world away.

I make a very quick decision. I'm going 'home' early, back to the residence of a family member I only met in person - rather than via a buffering computer screen - less than a week ago, to avoid this reality.

As I slump down on my bed and take photos of my tired feet - because I can surely sell these and recoup some savings, right? - I switch on some music to help me feel less alone. Instead, the music that starts to play has me groaning with regret. One of the lightning-fast music phases of 2023 comes back to haunt me.

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The song is branded into my brain as I visit old monuments and drive down windy roads in a micro car (definitely not hauling on the ropes and climbing the mast).

With the end of January and the end of my trip fast approaching, I'm quickly thrust back into 'normal' life. I keep wondering where all the time went in the last few years. Did it start speeding up in pandemic times? Did I miss a memo? It feels like life hit the 'shuffle' button.

I struggle with myself to have 2024 be a productive year. I'm awake early most mornings, struggling to keep my eyes open as I type into my phone or my laptop. I have a plan, a goal, multiple goals. Finish my program, get the career I've trained years for. Write every day. Read 69 books in the year. Be consistent. And every morning I dance in my car on the way to work like nothing matters. All to songs that I've heard over and over again.

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Everything seems to be constantly changing, and some of it is for the good and some of it is for the bad. Everything is in overdrive. I'm finishing a program I've studied for years to complete, and there are multiple transitions happening in my future. The rest of the pressure is all me.

My friend moves down to a city near me in April. Between bouts of Imposter Syndrome and driving three hours each way to catch up, we watch Eurovision in fits and starts.

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Nemo's triumph at Eurovision is swiftly followed by the end of my course. I've already lost focus. I am not consistent. I am tired and looking for distraction.

I quickly find that I have nothing left to give. I'm more excited for the end of the year than for the morning. I'm not waking up early anymore. I'm jaded and suffocating. I'm getting angry.

I make a playlist on Spotify called "Female Rage and Hozier" and listen to this on repeat as the year continues to fly by. My friend, the one who moved down to live nearby, is also angry and jaded. We make a great team.

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I go to see Hozier live in concert and spend three hours thinking of nothing but how the music makes me feel. That's when the anger breaks.

I feel a weight lifted from my shoulders. This is it. It finally hits me that these moments I'm existing through are moments I've strived so hard to live through for the last 10 years (maybe more? Who's counting?).

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I'm too burnt out to focus on that realisation. I just want to get through. So, as soon as I return from seeing Hozier, I throw myself into finishing up the year. Thankfully, ending the year is quick.

On my side of the world, it's hot at the start and at the end of the year and it's cold in the middle. The cold leaves quickly, fleeing the heat. The last part of the year is going to be hot.

My partner hates the sun and the heat. But after an exhausting day, we sing together about going to the beach, making funny faces, coordinated dances, as we drive home. It's a moment of levity I haven't had all year and it feels so good in that moment that when I lay in bed that night, I squeeze my eyes shut and hope to dream of it.

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Our family is visiting, the world is chaotic again but I can feel the stress begin to relax. I'm drifting throughout the last few days before Christmas like one would drift on a floatation device on a river. All the tension has left me and I find myself relaxed and anxious about it. I haven't felt content in so long that it worries me and then that worries me. So I just let myself keep drifting.

I start to think, as I drift through the last days of the year, that there's something I missed. Something I didn't fully understand before. I start to think that the key that I'm missing is trying. Instead, I seem to have internalised Yoda, and begun to think that 'doing' is the only way. To hell with just trying. How dare I merely try?

The last song I listen to in 2024, as I scoff down 12 grapes under a table, hoping with all my heart that that feeling of having someone I can count on through highs and lows continues throughout 2025, says everything I needed to hear. I don't need to be consistent, I just need to consistently try.

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