What a shit year. 2019 suuuuucked! Seriously. Based on what I’ve seen, I’m not the only one who felt that way. This was just a flat out hard year for many people.

Lies, manipulations, deaths, lost jobs, vehicle breakdowns, health problems, natural disasters, you name it, this year included it all. The stress involved with this year seemed unprecedented. I’m sure that’s not the case. I’m sure there have been much worse years for people. But for me, this is one that’ll go down as one of the worst.

It started out that way. And though I had high hopes at the start of it, as I always do at the beginning of a New Year, it quickly proved its determination to just be a year of total suck. Try as I may, I couldn’t convince it otherwise. It was hell bent on its destination. Like sand slipping effortlessly through fingers, the tighter I’d grip to hold on, the more I’d lose. It was surreal. An unbelievable culmination of endings that was beyond prediction. You just. Can’t. Make. This. Shit. Up.

And I say that to people, and I get the slight head tilt followed with, “Awe, I’m sorry its been a rough year.” The response of which building inside me is to throat punch them, but I refrain. Words can not explain the level of loathing I truly have had for this year. And to neatly fit it into the confines of a neatly packaged box of a year, doesn’t quite do it justice. See, this year was just a light put on all the shit I’ve been dealing with for nearly a decade. This year exposed the areas and people in my life that were of ill will and had ill intent of my life. This year proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, who my friends were and it put names to my enemies.

I had a guy tell me, “Oh you’re going through transition period!”, as his face beamed with a smile of excitement. It literally took everything I had inside me not to come across the table at him. I wanted to say, that I could care less about his “transition”. I wanted to say, “that no one asked me if I wanted things to change”. I wanted to tell him, to stay out of my life with his misguided ideas of “growth” and “change”. That if he didn’t see the value in what I had lost, then he had no business commenting on it. I wanted to tell him, I wanted him to feel the pain. I wanted him to know the depth in which I was. Whatever “better” was waiting for me on the other side, I could care less.

But I didn’t. I didn’t say any of it. I just smiled and nodded my acceptance of it. Why bother? I’ve embraced the bitterness of it all and come to terms with it. Nothing can change that now. Behold the new me.

So we’re staring down the barrel of a New Year; and unlike years past, I am not as optimistic. Sarcastic seems to be more of the word that fits. Uninterested. Indifferent. Numb. I’d like to say that I survived 2019. But I didn’t. I know I didn’t. Too much, too soon, too fast. You can’t prepare or withstand that type of change dealt that way. You become forever altered. What was once you, is no more. That’s just how it goes. What’s left is just the remnants.

I once met a woman outside of a 7-Eleven who was begging for change. I gave her what I had in my pocket at the time and we struck up a conversation. She was clearly drunk. Was thankful for the little I had given her but kept going on and on about her son. She spoke so highly of him. He seemed like a pretty cool guy. I asked where he was. Her voice changed. She began crying. Saying he wasn’t coming back. At first, I didn’t understand; she had been talking like he was just in another town, but he wasn’t. He had died years ago and she couldn’t shake the loss. This was a woman that had a life. A good job. A family. A home. But she lost her son, and with him went her marriage, her job, her home. She began drinking heavily and now, she’s homeless and begs for change.

That chance meeting happened years ago. Close to two decades ago. I’ve never mentioned it to anyone until now; but I’ve thought about it a lot. Never could understand how someone could just allow their life to slip away like that. I get it now. Now I get it. I don’t fault her for it. It makes sense to me now. I understand. Words can’t explain it. They don’t do it justice.

You can call it what you want. You can issue your judgements and your feelings of disdain. I pray you never feel it. I pray you never understand. Shut your mouth, count your blessings, and consider yourself lucky.

I know that time and the concept of years is a social construct. There’s nothing about this year that is truly “ending” on December 31st. But I will admit, there is some comfort afforded in the concept after having a year like this. That it’s done. Finished. Never to be experienced or felt again. There is some solace in that. Not enough to be excited or optimistic of 2020. Afterall, it’s just a date on a calendar. All the situations and circumstances you’re currently in will still be there on January 1.

But, these next few months, could bring something better? They could reverse, at least on some level, the script that you’re living?…whisper silently to yourself, “let it be so”…then raise your glass, offer a Salud to 2020, and a big Good Riddance to this shit year that is 2019.

 

***For all of you that muddled through my incoherent ramblings this year, I pray 2020 finds you healthy, happy, and in paper. From the bottom of my black heart, Salud!

 

© Jacob C. Larson 2019 All Rights Reserved

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