On the Eve of 2025

I resolved many years ago to stop with the New Year’s resolutions and instead set and reset goals when it makes sense to do so. It’s an approach that usually works for me, and it certainly served me well in 2024.

New Year’s nonetheless remains an obvious point at which to evaluate the previous twelve months, to celebrate and to grumble: to offer myself both praise and constructive criticism. What were the highlights? The lowlights? What do I want to carry into the year to come, and what would I prefer to abandon in the past? And, related, what can I change, and what do I have to do my best to accept?

And so on the eve of 2025, I’m conducting a mini “year in review.” Smiling. Shaking my head a little. Thinking about the wins and acknowledging the losses.

If I were basing this assessment solely on the content of blog posts I published over the course of 2024, I’d pretty quickly conclude that I absolutely coasted through the year. The magical and, sometimes, toxic thing about blogs and social media is that they give you the freedom to cultivate whatever version of yourself you’d like the world to see. I try to keep it real, but as a naturally optimistic, super cheerful person to whom nothing bad ever happens (hahaha), I tend to avoid dwelling on topics that aren’t super comfortable or heartwarming or encouraging to write or read about. Much as I’d like to be a member of a less anxiety-prone species, I’m only the imperfect human/nervous wreck I was born to be, and amongst my many flaws is my desire to please and be pleased. As such, I’m in the habit of maximizing the celebrating and minimizing the lamenting. How I choose to approach De Morbo Sacro is a reflection of this, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that, really.

Still, in my yearly DMS Wrapped, I’ll give a little more space to what I’ll keep working to shift as I forge/lurch my way forward.

Without further ado, here’s an incredibly abbreviated and entirely unedited account of my 2024 since I’m quickly running out of time (and steam). Here goes.

This year, I got a better handle on my mental health, though this remains a work in progress. I participated in an outpatient OCD program and considered—and am still considering—participating in a more intensive one once I make further improvements to my physical health. I started seeing a new therapist. I worked on my food stuff. I’m still working on it. Though I’m perpetually anxious and constantly double guess every decision I make, I’m more able to sit with those decisions—to trust my judgement.

This year, I made huge strides in my physical recovery. I went from twice-daily PSW visits to relying on myself for all my personal care. I went from bad baths to unsupervised showers and luxurious bubble baths in our soaker tub. I went from spending most of the day in bed to spending much of it out exploring the city and the rest of it at my desk or at my sewing machine. I went from lying to sitting to occasionally standing and even more occasionally walking. I still live with chronic pain. I’ll always be a wheelchair user. My body will forever bear the scars of what it’s been through. It doesn’t function as it used to, and I frequently curse it, but I also marvel at the extent to which it’s healed.

This year, I’ve expanded my network. I’ve developed new friendships. I’ve strengthened old relationships. I’ve had to let some go, and that’s sucked, but I know I’ll be OK because I’ve become surprisingly secure in myself and in my ability to cope and have others to fall back on.

This year, I’ve established my independence. I graduated from a manual chair to a power chair. I take public transportation like it’s no big thing and go where I want, when I want.

This year, I’ve gained new skills and honed skills I already had.

This year, I’ve felt helpless as I’ve watched loved ones suffer. Nothing much to add here.

More than anything, this year, I’ve initiated the process of truly coming into myself. I’m discovering who I am, what I want, and what I need to do to get there, and I’m remaining curious. I’ve started to travel. I’ve learned to stick up for myself. I’m figuring out when and how much to push and when and how much to pull back.

At midnight tonight, nothing will change, yet everything will keep changing, and that’s perfectly fine with me.

Happy New Year’s, readers.