I. On resolutions When I was younger, new year resolutions were singular. Just one to start off the year, like “Exercise,” “Read every day,” or “Spend more time with friends.” They were habits that faded out into January such that the rest of the year had no resolve. As I aged and learned how much
2017 was a great, but in a way embarrassing, year for me. Maybe that’s the mark of growth: when you look back and realize how much better you could have done things, if you were only as wise then as you are now. To be able to say that about a year alone is big
Day one: In which we softly linger. This year lasted forever. I remember starting fresh and hopeful with two simple wishes: to get this boy to love me, and to be happy whether or not he did. In that regard, 2017 should have been a perfect success. But the year had better ideas for me.
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“All I wanted was my art and the chance to be the creator of my own world, my own reality. I wanted the open road and new beginnings every day.” ― Charlotte Eriksson Quick recap of 2017: I launched the year carrying a freshly-diagnosed depression, which changed to bipolar a few months later. I experienced