New Year’s Eve. New Year’s Day. New Year’s Resolutions. Barf and double barf to the whole lot. Especially New Years Resolutions. What sick, self-hating soul came up with New Year’s Resolutions? What kind of sadistic freak would set themselves up for an entire year of guilt for not following through on the unrealistic, pie in the sky promises they made to themselves? Surely it had to be someone Catholic.
Now, I make no bones about my general distaste for New Years. In fact, if this was one of those claymation specials from the 1960s, I would definitely be the evil character who twirls his mustache and bursts into a catchy tune which would outline my diabolical plan to cancel New Years– forever! Cue the evil laughter, sobbing children and sad animals.
It’s a drunk persons holiday and maybe I’m just a bitter ex-drunk person so that’s why I’m anti-New years . Maybe it’s because the holiday falls right on the joyous time of year wherein I hit rock bottom and it brings up awful memories Maybe I’m simply a cranky old queen who needs something to dislike and since I now understand the appeal of both Carly Rae Jepsen and American Horror Story, New Years is my new favorite thing to hate. Whatever the case may be, I’m not a fan. As a failed “This time for sure!” relapser who promised himself that 1990-fill in the blank and 2000-whatever would be the year(s) that he finally stopped smoking, doing drugs, drinking and lying and generally being a delusional dipshit, resolutions really churn my stomach.
For years, I thought I needed to go hiking more or do more yoga or journal more to fix myself. Yeah. The only problem with those plans is that hiking, yoga and journaling are really hard to do when you wake up 7 days a week with a hangover hand-delivered from Satan himself. I learned over and over again that having the resolve or the good intention or even seeing the right “Live Your Best Life” segment on Oprah were not enough. It was going to take something major if I wanted my life to really change and get better. So on January 2nd, 2009 I made a promise to myself. But a different one. I promised I’d actually try and do whatever it took to stay sober. Looking back, I’m pretty sure I thought I wouldn’t make it. Never drinking after work? Never drinking at lunch? Never drinking period? These were hard promises to keep especially for a guy who couldn’t even finish the Alchemist or never watched all of The Secret. Against the not-so-great odds, I kept this promise. Not because I’m remarkable or some kind of will power ninja. All I did was ask for help and change everything.
Incredibly, this is my fourth New Year’s without a hangover. I sit here on my couch after an early morning shift volunteering helping other drunken disasters. My cat and I watched the sun come up. I’ve even changed my mind about New Year’s Eve a little too. I spent mine with my husband watching a Face Off marathon and eating German Chocolate cake as the fireworks from downtown exploded outside our window. I even make tiny one-day at a time type of resolutions too. But they’re not about depriving myself or beating myself up. I like to resolve to do more of what I already love. Like more reading. More long walks. More learning. More trying of things I’ve always been afraid to try. More love and less fear. More recovery. More writing. More change. More art and theatre. More happiness. More of you guys and your brilliant thoughts.
So in that spirit, what good stuff do want to cultivate more of in 2013? Inspire me in the comments section below. And I mean this when I say it, Happy New Year!