One step
So I’ve just come home after a few days nestled away in the mountains. It was so fucking lovely. We stayed in a gigantic resort with a million rooms, views of paradise and the best goddam poolside cocktail list I’ve ever seen.
Anyhoo, now I’m back and ready to start this year for real this time. I’m playing a solo gig tomorrow at a bar in the city, I’m going back to work in just over a week, I’ve finally started to put together the showreel for the agent I’ve been connected with and I’m finally getting my strength back.
I guess the main thing is trying not to get ahead of myself. I have so many plans and so many goals to achieve that I get overwhelmed before I even begin. But not this time.
I’m feeling good. Very good. But I have no idea how I’ll feel tomorrow.
The risk.
I won’t be the first person to say that my 2012 was awful. I’ve heard it a thousand times already (give or take) and we are only two days into the new year. Of course as each one passes we look back on it all and feel either sad thats over, glad to move on or indifferent to the whole thing because “it’s all just a bunch of nonsense so people with boats can post pictures of themselves on the internet before they start feeling shit about their empty lives” (thanks Nanna).
So whilst I’m not the only one with a thing or two to complain about, and at the risk of sounding like an overprivileged, white and middle class asshole, I can say with confidence and sincerity that 2012, for me, was a piece of shit.
I won’t go into too much dull, scientific/medical detail but basically everything started to go downhill when I dropped out of uni and moved back home thanks to a few years of developing depression which progressed into a fairly major breakdown and four weeks in a psychiatric ward. Post hospital I kind of dropped my bags and ran back into full time life which involved directing a play, assistant producing a music video and going back to work. Eventually it all caught up with me and I landed myself right back into a hospital for another few weeks. In the midst of all this excitement I was referred to a fatigue specialist (another fun addition to my many health issues) who diagnosed me with chronic fatigue a result of suffering with a cute little bug called cytomegalovirus for over two years. Great, so that began a series of unpleasant tests (I swear I have a deadly phobia of needles) and 2, one hour long treatments per week which involved a tube hanging out in my arm veins whilst liquids were pumped into my blood. Not ideal.
SO that’s about it, the point is that it is now a new year and like almost everyone else in the world, I am ready for something new. For me, that is starting a real, fully functioning blog to join the thousands of others just like it floating around in cyber space. Though it would be fun to have an audience, I think I could be just as content and find it equally as helpful if it just ends up being for me.
But if by doing this I can catch the eye of someone in a similar place, with a similar situation, whose 2012 was just as shit, and make them feel a little less alone and a little more empowered, then my year will already be made.
I’m on 6 weeks full time bed rest as of yesterday, this is my guide to making something out of nothing.
