New Year Resolutions
We sha thank God for resolve.
My Future, by Billie Eilish. (She did something for me, in these last days of the year. I wasn’t sure I’d come across a recommendation on time for the post. But I’m glad I did).
I mean, it's not exactly what I wanted when I started writing, but technically I’ve pushed out a blog per month at least, this being the final one for the year. And that was what I set for myself when I started writing again this year.
- I have a bunch of New Year's resolutions. I want to learn to commit to projects and murder the spirit of procrastination in his god-forsaken sleep.
- I want to start my master's degree by at least the summer semester.
- I don’t want to accidentally make a child this year (or in the next five, let’s be real).
- I want to start therapy and heal old wounds. I want to let go of grudges. I don’t carry a lot, but the very few I carry are trying to kill me.
- I want to finally rewrite my two manuscripts and get them into tip-top shape before next summer.
- I want to always be six blog posts ahead of schedule, which entails scheduling my drafts six updates ahead.
- I want to start a podcast and shoot creative video covers of my favorite songs, completing the first video by the end of January.
- I want a healthy relationship with my body and with food.
- I want to travel to at least one place I’ve never been to before all by myself.
- I want to build a social media presence (NOT A BRAND) with all my completed works and WIP before I start my master’s degree and maintain it for at least an entire semester.
…it felt good to write all that down. I haven’t dared vocalize any dreams or resolutions of mine for a long time. It's all memes and dry humor, it’s all scattered words and the familiar shroud of cynism of not failing if you never tried.
Much like my attitude to my academics. To spirituality. To my approach to social environments. And pretty much anything that asked for a show of effort from me.
I’ve spent this entire December on one of my lowest of lows. I just graduated, for the love of God. I have a job and am applying to schools for my master’s degree. I have amazing friends and once again somebody’s son has used juju on my common sense(I’m joking! I’m joking, I love you :) ).
One would think I’d have a great deal to be happy about. They aren’t wrong. But I don’t feel deserving of joy. I’m not happy with the state of some of the closest relationships in my personal life, and I very much loathe myself for what is increasingly clear to be my poor mental health.
It is hard to give myself grace when other people with worse odds are doing so well. So much better. It is hard to acknowledge that I’ve done the best I can. It is hard to believe that what little I’ve achieved is in fact — deserving the grace to be called my best at all. It’s hard to give myself room to make mistakes when my self-awareness continually provides evidence that doing so is simply a way to make excuses.
Actually, it has always been hard. I’ve been stuck in this deadlock for a very long time. And I used to constantly distract myself from it. I’d make a mistake and I would fail. And then I’d refuse to try again. If I must do something, it is the bare minimum. Enough to get me what I needed enough to make effort compulsory. Enough to not have to look back and be heartbroken by the fact that my best is not the best. Enough to never be in a position where my best is not enough.
I expect to fail, I expect to struggle, I expect my best to not be good enough. I have no faith in my ability to excel, much less to commit. After the disastrous attempt to raise a natural free-spirited child as a fiercely competitive kid in less than ideal conditions (read: The Typical African Christian Home), I’m a mess of unhealed trauma, trust issues, resentment, apathy, and an inner fourteen-year-old emo kid. I’d rather devote all of my efforts to seeing my loved ones happy anyways because validation once equaled affection and other stuff for my future therapist.
Let the world think what they want for my lack of attempt, I cannot be called a failure if I never tried.
With that kind of mindset, you just know I never even bothered with resolutions. Resolutions had long since become one more thing I used to run away from, probably (likely) while I was in high school. Sure I may have dreams. But those were mere dreams. They’re fun to have and if I tried to work towards them and didn’t achieve them? They would go from dreams to failures. Failed goals. Failed objectives. In case you haven’t picked it up, I clearly have a problem with failure. It is as bad as my issue with control and it is the backbone of my anxiety. Actually… they’re probably even intersectional.
Thankfully, this is something I’ve been slowly working myself out of after I finished school, against all odds, and exploring this journey of self is something I’ve gone into in-depth in another one of my drafts for a later post. But there is a reason I brought it up here at all.
I can’t say I’m on a journey to embrace what I cannot control or to conquer my fear of failure, without setting any actual goals to materialize my dreams. I’m not there yet, because a lot of times I still absolutely expect to fail.
A lot of times, like this December? I feel like it’s not enough and that there is no point trying. But setting goals despite that is already more than half the battle. As simple as it was, it started with my desire to blog again. And damn it, I did it. August, September, November, December. It isn’t every two weeks or a consistent regularity of it, but it’s been no breaks. I tried. And yeah it’s not my best. Not yet.
Not without the resolve to try, fear of failure be damned.
If you’ve ever felt like the idea of a New Year’s Resolution is stupid, I would encourage you to ask yourself why. Do you say things like why wait till January, or what is wrong with you that you can’t start now, or something of the sort?
Perhaps you ridicule people who post it, taunting them that these resolutions aren’t bound to last and that they’re deceiving themselves. Perhaps you have no faith in the collective human race to keep a promise to themselves, not after failing promises to others.
Maybe you say things like why wait till January, or what is wrong with you that you can’t start now, or something of the sort?
Do you really consider the resolve of people wanting the new year to be their chance to a fresh start to be in vain?
Are you projecting?
I used to, at some point. It’s never been in my nature to give others a hard time though, so I quickly found it distasteful. Sure, they could have started since. I could have started since. But since has already passed. The year has already gone.
Its not like anyone sat on their asses from February 1st saying, oh I’ll just wait till next year to find a better job and afford feeding. Or, oh I’ll just chill and eat carelessly for a whole year and try later.
People make mistakes here and there, but they try don’t they? And if they fail, at least they find the resolve to try again and again, even till the new year.
It’s more than just not trying ever again because I’m afraid to fail, because I do not love myself enough to appreciate my flaws.
It constantly takes a great deal more self-forgiveness, but I am writing resolutions now, so fingers crossed.
Good luck with your new year's resolutions. I’ll see you in 2022!
