THE LAST OF THE TWELVE

​Hi, I'm back with my usual reflections. First and foremost, thank you for being there for me throughout this year; your support means the world to me.

As this is the last month of 2023, I want to express my gratitude for the journey so far. While it hasn't been my best year, I'm appreciative of the experiences it brought (p.s.: I'll delve into those in my next post). Right now, I want to share my current feelings. Frankly, I've mentally concluded this year; the phrase "I'll do it next year" has become my mantra in recent days. Please understand, end-of-year anxiety has set in, and I'm wrestling with a sense of unfulfillment.

My heart beats, a reminder of life, yet also a reflection of the anxiety I feel as the year wraps up. With December's arrival, I find myself in a cycle of self-evaluation, pressure, and doubt. The fear of the unknown looms large. I've done things I regret and things I wish I hadn't, but it's the undone things that weigh on me. Despite being advised to cut myself some slack, I struggle to describe how unfulfilled I feel for not achieving all my goals. My mind is a battlefield, with constant skirmishes between my heart and my brain. While I welcome the end of the year with gratitude for good health, I fear the swift passage of the next year. Growing older, I sense the mounting challenges of adult decisions, and I don't know how to shake off the anxiety.

Another aspect that intensifies my year-end blues is the conclusion of my current age, a predicament of being born in the first month of the year. Planning for the new year means planning for a new age, and it's a daunting task. I'm uncertain if my sentiments resonate with others, but I'm certain I'm not alone. If you're experiencing similar emotions, know that we're in this together. I appreciate and love you. Thanks for persevering with me; we'll navigate the remaining days of this year and many more years to come. ❤️