Fresh starts can be a birth; messy, painful and confusing but without them life would not get anywhere.
And aren’t we just obsessed with fresh starts this time of year?
I used to be a bit of a New Years’ Ebenezer Scrooge, grumbling about how full the gym would suddenly get and the fleeting glimpses of introspection in my peers on nights out. This one time of year people reflected on their lives in ways that they would then precede to refuse to do for the next 11 months.
And maybe I resented it all the more because January is frequently my worst month for mental health. I am an introspective but active person most of the year but come January while everyone else around me is resolutioning into the horizon, my plans are falling apart.
Because I am obsessed with plans and lists and maps and goals, I do it all the time, every day, all year long. I write to do lists and mark calendars with deadlines for personal goals because it is the only way I can function. So when the January blues hit I resent everyone coming in and playing dress-up in my coping mechanisms.
Yes, I know that’s petty. And yes, I know it’s irrational but so am I sometimes.
So here’s me, covered in the dust of a life that I’m trying to put together from broken fragments for the hundredth time – making new years’ resolutions.
Because I always made them, even when I was sneering, because I don’t know how not to and because I need to believe that I can just decide to have a better life as much as everyone else does.
See you in the gym guys. Much love and happy new year.
Orla ní Dhúill 