2020 Year-End Reflection – En garde, Indeed.

Trigger Warning: depression, death, dying, etc.

Have you ever wanted to hype yourself with positive, sunshiny cheery vibes only for reality to show up, snatch that silver lining, and smack you upside the head so bad before dragon punching the honeyed taste of optimism out of your mouth, leaving you bloodied, battered, and oh-so effing confused that you found yourself staring up at the sky laced with stars and questioning the universe?

Questioning your whole existence?

Not asking questions like: “why am I here?”

Not wondering “what purpose do I have while on this Earth?”

But instead: “why the heck do I even need to be here? Who made up this rule? Don’t I get a say?

Scotty, beam me up someplace else because I am tired. I am numb. I am undone. I have been stripped down to my very soul and it hurts. Hurts. Hurts.

And then like an opossum feeling threatened you consider death; suicidal ideation has kicked in like some morbid defense mechanism against all of the unbearable stress — mind you, not because you actually want to die — but because you just can’t deal with existing in a world that resembles a Hellscape under the mind control of SCP-3000?

Thanks older bro for sharing this creepy creature with me. 😉

What were we talking about again?

Oh. Yeah. New Year.

I remember last year when I created the cover sheet for my 2020 Writer’s Goal binder and used the phrase “en garde”:

Little did I realize I, like any sane and reasonable person, that we would be fighting not only for our own lives, but the lives of others. On guard against those that would revel in our failures and dance at our literal and figurative absence.

Of course, I am no prophet and I did not anticipate how traumatic (lost friends and loved ones to Covid-19), jarring (separating myself from toxic, two-faced individuals), disconcerting (such demonic divisiveness in the country I love), mournful (learned how expendable I am as an educator and a human being; being forced to resign or work in unsafe and toxic environments), depressing (one of my parents has dementia), surreal (reaching ever closer to fulfilling my writer dreams, but still seeming to be so far away), and promising (never give up hope!) this year would be and I’m hoping that 2021 will be a much-needed improvement.

I will have more positive news to post in the sooner than later future.

My introvert protective shell is walling up again. 🙂

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