a roll of the dice.

I wasn’t expecting my first breakdown of the year to happen so suddenly. But three days into 2021 I experienced what was probably one of the most intense and darkest mental health crises I’ve ever gone through. I told no one. My friends have known about my struggles, hell, everyone is struggling to some extent both in general and pandemic-induced. My friends knew it was a rough time, but no one knew how bad it really was. I’m just happy I still had a firm grip on moving forward and not giving up completely. It was a conversation I had to have with myself. I’m not tired of being here in general, I’m just tired of where I am right now.

Although I spent New Year’s Eve reflecting on the pain and rawness that 2020 brought with it, I genuinely was able to pull out so many more positives than negatives. It was like a magician pulling silk scarves out of his sleeve. I never thought it was possible for someone like me to reflect on chaos, pain and upheaval as a good thing. I admired my personal growth and healing in this moment. There I was, making the most of the shitty cards I was dealt. I thought I would fold but instead I was all-in. I was all-in and planned for a better year ahead.

Three days into my new routine I hit a wall. I knew the routine I set in place would be helpful in the long run and likely was helping me get through the days one by one, but despite my actions and my motivations, I wasn’t feeling particularly great. Although the day prior was a good day, January 3rd was one of the worst days of my life. Nothing notably bad happened. I actually began the day in a slow and sweet way, but by sunset I was drained. Maybe I put too much pressure on the new year and expected to feel better immediately. Truth is, I was bluffing. I was hoping that the attitude I had towards my shitty cards would pass for confidence, hope and motivation but they only took me so far. To be quite honest, I don’t know shit about playing poker.

I already told myself that a new year means nothing. It’s arbitrary. But the intent behind a fresh start is always appealing. Truth be told, I’ve been attempting these fresh starts every so often and getting sent back to start. Like I was knocked from my placed in the game of real-life and suddenly I had to figure it out again. Fine. I had accepted that. I welcomed it. I appreciated the opportunity. But now with each dice roll I moved nowhere. I was stuck at the starting line.

I don’t feel that I’m very well equipped for playing this game. I’m a novice and others are masters. But I remind myself that comparison is the thief of joy and I need to focus on my own strategy for getting by. My position on that board has been difficult to move. I’ve done it before, and I’ve got as close as I can but not quite close enough. That’s fair. I understand that. I see what went wrong and why. I guess that’s what happens when you use someone else’s cheat code instead of working on figuring it out yourself. That’s fine, I didn’t know better because I wasn’t told I had any control over the game. I’ve been focused on playing the game of Monopoly instead of Life, but how can I get through the game of Life when the game of Monopoly keeps showing up and causing problems. I can’t beat it. I can’t seem to win. To be quite honest, I don’t want to win it. Why can’t I find a version of the game of Life that doesn’t include Monopoly, or Risk, or any of those other challenging strategic games?

What I’m getting at is life is hard. This is my first real insight to it. How can I not compare myself to others when people are out there living their lives and still moving forward, despite a pandemic, and I’m just cooped up in my bedroom trying to figure out what’s next for me? My anxiety is high and instead of pushing myself I stay wrapped up in my blankets and welcome this state of limbo. Because this state of limbo, although it is driving me mad, it’s safe and secure. The world out there? It’s rough. It’s harsh. It spit me out and I almost didn’t survive. How can I do that again? I don’t have the energy to do that again. I don’t have the energy for much these days. There are people I’ve been meaning to message. Feelings I’ve been meaning to share, but it seems hopeless and useless and draining, so I figure it’s best to leave them alone.

My therapist told me my feelings are valid. She told me that it’s perfectly fine to be feeling this way. The tears? The anguish? All part of the process. All part of proving to myself that I want more and need more. It’s not an easy time for many of us. Some are way worse off than I am. Due to life circumstances, due to societal institutions and social norms, due to the pandemic. All of the above. Etc., etc., etc.

I’m no longer in the darkest of dark places that I was that night. It crept on so suddenly and overwhelmingly, but it dissipated by morning. I woke up suspicious — unable to trust my own emotions. I’ve been crying off and on for months on end and it was all adding to my existential dread and negative view of the typical life we’re expected to lead mixed with current world events. I guess all that’s left is to keep trying. I’m so tired already. It’s like the warmup for a marathon but the warmup kicked my ass, and I can barely even walk through the path. But whatever pace I’m at, it’s at least better than nothing. It sometimes feels like I’ve hardly moved. I wake up and I’m an inch away from where I was yesterday, but I know in time all the inches will add up to miles and suddenly I’ll be where I never thought I would be.

I guess it wouldn’t be fair to go through such a transformative chapter of life without working hard at it. The changes, the pain, all of it… I thought that was the lesson itself but turns out there’s more. There’s a lot more. I keep forgetting that I wasn’t ‘sent to jail’ with the cards I was dealt. I was sent back to start. Sometimes it feels like a jail. Like purgatory. A state of discontent. It’s fair to feel this way when the whole world is shut down and the outdoor world is hardly inviting these days, unless you’re a fan of the cold. I actually do find myself enjoying the feeling of cold air these days. Something else I’ve noted.

Maybe I need to make my own board game. I can take pieces of other games and bits and bobs of whatever it is that I need and figure it out. The problem is a one-player game can be lonely. But truth be told, even if I’ve played these games with friends in the past, it’s really not a collective effort, despite how we may be able to provide thoughtful recommendations to one another or little bits of support. We don’t all have the same starting line. We don’t all have the proper strategy. Some are more well equipped than others. Some have struggled and moved past obstacles and deserve to be where they are. Maybe some snuck their way through. Got lucky. It doesn’t mean they’ll win. It just means it was easier for them to get where they are. If they do win? It won’t be quite as satisfying.

I do hope for a better year ahead. But it takes much more than hope. It takes kicking yourself in the ass and getting your hands dirty. I’m already exhausted thinking about it. But it’s also exhausting to keep playing when you’re not moving. I’ve literally been there before. Playing board games that in my head I’ve referred to as ‘bored’ games. Getting restless. Getting sick and tired of it. Not seeing the point of it anymore. But what I’ve come to learn is that in order to enjoy the game, you have to not take things so seriously. Have fun. Accept failure. Keep rolling the dice. Keep learning from experiences and use it to your advantage. Build a strategy and then go for it.