The last day of 2020 has already arrived. I kept telling myself I’d have time to make more detailed plans for the new year, but it looks like I’ve completely run out. I didn’t even have time to set up my new bullet journal yet. I guess I can try to do what I can with the time I have left before I go to my friend’s house for her new year’s party tonight.
It feels like I always get so excited at the vague idea of change, of transitional periods in my life, but then when the time comes, I’m so scared. I haven’t felt much like writing for the last week or so. I don’t feel very inspired about anything. I haven’t been brave enough to take the time to sit down with myself and figure out how I’m feeling. I just feel numb instead.
I want today to be a celebration though. I can worry about change and planning and details tomorrow. Tonight is for me and my friends. I want to celebrate how much I have grown this year. I may have struggled a lot, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t any positives. One way I am going to show myself that progress tonight is by not getting ridiculously drunk and by keeping my hands to myself. Then at the very least I can wake up tomorrow with some semblance of dignity and have it together enough to get things done later.
No more running. I’ve reached the end of the pier. It’s time for me to turn around and face myself. I know I can do this. I don’t need to be afraid. Planning for my future isn’t an ultimatum. I’m not writing up strict laws for myself to follow. There are no self-punishments if I fail. Instead I am drawing a map of self-love. Exploring the virgin territory of my heart and mind. It’s okay to take some wrong turns. I’m still just getting a sense of my surroundings. Learning about the ecosystem of my soul. Trial and error. Learning how to love myself again. There is nothing to fear. I am going to be here supporting myself no matter what I find.