Around this time last year, I posted something about what I wanted to happen in 2022 and what would happen were two very different things. As much as it kills me to admit it, it looks like my predictions were right: literally nothing I wanted to happen last year actually happened.
I'd like to be smug about being proved right, but it's actually pretty sobering to look back at that post (and the year that followed it), and realise there was a lot of hard work and a lot of personal development, all for...nothing much, really. It sucks, but, y'know, such is life, I guess.
So, what now?
Well, I'm genuinely not sure. I'm pretty much in the same position I was when I wrote that post, except that I've made peace with...well, a lot of things, both personal and professional, and I have a clearer view of what lies ahead now. Hopefully, that'll make the rest of this year easier in some ways. I guess I'll find out.
One thing I am sure of is that two years of solid rejections have pretty much destroyed whatever passion I had for creative work, which is a weird thing to admit in such a public forum. I know turning away from it would make me deeply, deeply unhappy, and the way things are going in the world, I think clinging on to whatever small sliver of enjoyment you can find is essential. So, I think the first few weeks of 2023 are going to be about re-discovering what made me want to write in the first place.
Other than that, 2023 is looking to be more or less a blank slate for me.
Which is either amazing or terrifying. I'm not actually sure which.
