Most people who have been around for a while will now that after getting sober at the age of 23 I have become increasingly sentimental. For those who knew me before that, you’d know I was already pretty sentimental already. As I hit 29, I am about to burst.
This last year was one of the most difficult and trying of my entire life. Thoughts, emotions and impulses that I thought I had conquered years ago came back and have humbled me in a way I never could have expected. Meanwhile, as I did everything I could to not be brought down by things happening around me, I’ve had my health deteriorate at a pretty rapid pace – another humbling experience I did not expect. I am still trying to grapple with the way that rheumatoid arthritis is changing my body, my thoughts and my future (something I’ve wanted to address here for months now).
The positives are still there though too – I know far more now about my beliefs, the person I want to be and the things necessary to get there, than I learned in the previous five years combined. I spent this year “in the shit” – a process vital for any organizer in understanding what is effective, and also who will be there by your side if and when it comes. I hope to move forward with those folks with a better focus and with a better understanding of how to use my time (and even with an understanding that my personal time is precious).
I became an uncle again, got sued, got threatened with more suits, got wise and got by.
To everyone that suffered me this year – I owe you.
“In case you wonder – I’m not trying to be cynical. I know how you feel – If your life’s disconnect. In case you wonder – “What the fuck’s wrong with me?” If it all makes sense you’re the furthest fucking gone. They’ve got badges that they cover with their hands while they’re bashing your fucking head. They’ve got graveyards that they’ll fill with that head if you start getting anywhere. I won’t pretend that we’re on the winning end. But when did that matter before anyway? That never mattered before anyway.”