2010: A Year in F.U.

I’m calling it. 2010 has officially come to an end, as far as I’m concerned. I had a good weekend last weekend, and I anticipate a great final weekend of the year as I head into a fine 3-day mini-vacation. This was a fairly uncommon theme given how my year started out, and I’m not sure if it got better or worse as the year progressed, but here I am, so it is what it is.

2010 was a year of metamorphosis. Not the peaceful caterpillar to butterfly kind; there was no kind shelter of a cocoon, no emergence into the light as a beautiful sight to behold. This was more like emerging from a bunker after the passage of a nuclear winter; taking that first breath of toxic air and gasping my way through a bone crushing, flesh searing, brain emulsifying mutation.

Youth is a funny thing. There is a sense of entitlement that may be almost unavoidable; not necessarily that one has a right to have everything they desire, but that one has all of the knowledge and experience that one will require, without putting forth the effort of actually learning these life lesson-not living long enough to have experienced the experiences. It is very easy to convince oneself that each decision is made with the greatest of care, and no matter what anyone says, one will not be swayed. I can’t say that this delusion comes crashing down on everyone; certainly there are those who go through life without ever recognizing that they may be wrong. This year, I think it is safe to say that my delusion of youthful wisdom came crashing. I never considered myself foolish, I never considered myself to be impulsive. It certainly was foolish to think that at 19, I had finished growing. I had learned all of my lessons, and the rest was just cake. I finally came to terms with this mistake, only it wasn’t one that could be brushed off and moved on from. Picking myself up off of the mat from this crushing blow wasn’t as easy as shaking my head, sponging away the sweat, knocking my gloves together and coming back out swinging. It was more like listening to the ref count me out. On 1, I was ok being down. It was nice and quiet in my concussed darkness. At 2, I realized how lonely this darkness was. 3, I tried to open my eyes, but the light was so bright, everything out of focus. The count of 4 and I started to force things back together. 5 and the pain was all too real. At 6, I realized I could be finished, and I was not ok with that. On 7, I realized exactly how much will it would take, and on 8, I took a deep breath and got to my knees, half expecting to fall back down. 9 and I’m standing, wobbly; my legs like jell-o, my arms on fire, my head feeling 3 times its size. I won’t go down that easily.

Each of the lessons of this year were an exercise in punch drunkness; none had the kind whisper of the chalk on the blackboard. Instead, they were delivered with the blunt impact of a ball peen hammer. There were lessons in trust. Lessons in love. Lessons in expectation. Lessons in independence. Lessons in dependence. Lessons in anger. Lessons in hate. Lessons in faith. Each passed and as I recovered from their force, another blow would follow-a sharp reminder that 2010 had it out for me.

If I could offer one sentiment to 2010, it would be a giant F.U. Slag off, 2010. You took too many, gave too few. You stole from me a part of my innocence that I will never have back-whether it was delusion or not, it was comfort. You stole my vegetable garden. You gave me a bottle to turn to, whether filled with liquor or medication, the fact is that you took my ability to cope. You gave me emptiness. You gave me turmoil at a time when I was most seeking peace.
To end, I’d like to thank everyone who reads my rantings. I love you all, you mean the world to me. Each one of you played a part in my getting off of the mat, I know you were all in my corner and I will never forget it. Here’s to 2011. May each one of you experience comfort and peace, strength and hope.