Pieces Of Me [an online journal of sorts]

Entry 1 1 9: [redacted]

Note: This is the dreadful new year's post I mentioned in the last entry. I wasn't going to publish this. However, as much as I hate nearly
every word of this, it didn't feel right to just scrap it. So, here it is.
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On new year's eve, I was asked, "What's your greatest achievement this year?"

I'm not much for lying, so I said it as it is. "I survived," I told them.

It was true because the only thing I could think of was how absolutely shitty the past year was. Anything that came to mind, anything memorable, had been birthed directly from my own bad decisions--consciously-made, mind you.

I hadn't achieve anything. I just existed for those twelve months. Just get through this day, Reem, set on a loop. Mostly it was one step forward, ten steps back. You could hardly call that living, but I survived, I suppose. That matters, right?

It did matter, it seems, for there was a brief pause, and then: "That counts."

The part of me sitting hunched over itself with its shoulders to its ears relaxed. Sighed in relief. I felt validated. I survived. It counts.

But the rest of me hated that I gave such a half-assed answer. I was determined to find something, anything, that made 2018 worthwhile. It couldn't have just passed me by in a blur of grays and blacks.

So I made a list. Here are all the memorable things that happened in the last 365 days, all the lessons learned, in no particular order:

1. I finally let go of a (mutually) toxic friendship with one of my best friends. It sucked (still sucks, if I'm being honest), but I'm fine with it. I hope she's happy or, at least, happier.

2. On the other hand, I finally figured out how to put my feelings towards her into words, after years of confusion and hurt. It was always love, but a kind I never even knew existed. Too bad it was the kind she could never settle for.

3. I came to the painful realization that going for the major I have was a mistake. It took multiple breakdowns and lots of I was not meant for this I don't belong here what the hell am I doing? trains of thought, but it finally hit me, four years into my studies, that I might actually really hate my major. Even more painful was deciding to keep going anyway because it's not like there's anything else for me out there. It's my fear from 59 entries ago come to life.

4. My self-awareness is a curse, self-inflicted and probably irreversible. Worse, it only seems to grow day after day, completely overtaking me whenever I slip and let it.

5. I learned that distractions are the sole reason I can function. Although I've traded novels and YouTube videos for anime and fan fiction. Writing has also been shoved into the back-burner, which I kind of hate myself for. It makes me feel like I don't know who I am anymore, like maybe I've lost it.

6. I think I've more or less desensitized myself to my insecurities, appearance-wise. Or maybe it's just taken a backseat in light of the fact I don't fucking know what I'm doing with my life and that's probably more important than the trio of pimples I always seem to have somewhere on my face.

7. I came to realize, you know what, it was never them; it was always me. I'm why my relationships with friends and family members ended up the way they are. I'm the one who steps back, who pulls away, who never puts in the effort. All those walls and barriers I resented? I'm almost certain I built them myself. I fucking hate that I can't bring myself to tear them down.

8. I may have sort of came out to my best friend, though I'm not sure as what, exactly. I told her I've never felt sexually attracted to anyone in my life, despite previous crushes, and I probably never will, and she took it all in stride. It didn't matter to her whether I turned out to be ace, gay, or bi. It was nice.

and, finally, surprisingly,

9. I came to know that, despite my general glass-half-empty outlook on life, things always tend to sort themselves out.