I am almost sorry to say it, but I had a decent year!

I am glad of it! May everybody have decent years!

---

I’m glad someone had a good year!!

My year had ups and downs. I…don’t remember what happened the first half of the year. I went to Mexico with Vortex and Brenda and Maria? That was cool. I visited my parents in January. My mom was supposed to go see her sister but wasn’t feeling well, so didn’t go. At the time that was a whole thing but now I’m really glad it happened, because then Memorial Day weekend she fell down, went to the hospital, and was diagnosed with advanced pancreatic cancer and died two weeks later. It was so fast and it still seems pretty unreal, like maybe I just haven’t called her recently? We are still dealing with trying to straighten out her estate and have told my dad he can’t die until that happens. Nobody expected mom to pass before dad—he’s the one who for 20 years has been pronouncing “well, I might not be around next Christmas…”. And honestly I’d be surprised if he is around next Christmas. He’s hanging in there and my sister is doing a lot of work, but he’s not been in good shape for years. And work has been a nightmare and my boss is horrid and I need to find a new job.

On the good side, I went to the World Cup with a friend as a month long vacation and it was amazing. And I again spent December in Palm Springs with friends, which was a much needed dose of sunshine and companionship and I will miss it in the dark cold Seattle winter. I feel like a lot of my friends stopped wanting to go out or hang out and got very introverted during the pandemic and now I end up v lonesome a lot.

And the weirdest part of my year, I joined a clinical trial for a new weight loss drug and have now lost 60 pounds. I really need to add some muscle weight because a lot of it was muscle, but I have never in my life been this thin. It’s bizarre, and also weird to realize how dysmorphic my body image is, because I definitely don’t look at myself and think thin, even though I know I must be. So I’ll need to deal with that in the coming year—finding a workout that works and trying to be in shape, and figure out what I’ll do after this trial is over and I can’t get the drug anymore.

So basically 2024 is going to be a lot of work, even though I’m run down and tired from 2023. Trying to take the last couple days of the year here and prep and set myself up for success?

---

I had a shitty year. My mother went so out of control at me based on, as far as I can determine, seeing my furniture in her house which I was renting and had a lease for, that she threatened to kick me out and disown me. So we bought a house extremely quickly, and while I know we are fortunate to have been able to do that in this ridiculous housing market, and it’s a fine house with a good yard, it meant moving away from my grandparents house and the village I moved to Cape Cod to live in. My mother is now pretending everything is fine but I’m still really hurt by her and dealing with the fact that there’s really no relationship between us that takes me and my reality into account at all. So I avoid her and she acts like she’s the victim somehow.

Then the new boss I helped hire at my job turned out to be completely unfitted for the work and also possibly the worst possible style match for me I can imagine. I spent several months with literally half the staff asking me to somehow save them from my boss, which is not actually something I could figure out how to do because god knows he wouldn’t listen to my good advice even when we got along. This coming week will be my last week at the job I thought when I took it I could spend 20 years and retire in, and I also get to feel like I failed the staff of the library who believed in me. (Yes, my therapist has pointed out that I am not in fact magical, and that talking to HR and the Board of Trustees was about as much as I could reasonably do.)

So I moved my whole family across the country based on a dream of living in a specific town and working in a specific job and neither of those things worked out. Oddly, everyone else seems pretty happy here - I offered over the summer that we could move back to Ohio and they all said no.

Maybe the problem is me? No choice but to keep going though I guess.

---

Yay, good year, Jesse! Never hesitate to share the good. I'm with Hec — more good years for everyone.

So basically 2024 is going to be a lot of work, even though I’m run down and tired from 2023.

This is me. I feel like 2024 is going to be a harder version of 2023 in terms of my dad. I'm lucky I have so many good people and reasons for joy outside of that.

Financially, I just want stability. We have been so unstable since Covid because of ND's business, and this is the year that all came to a head. So stability, please. I don't need prosperity (though that would be lovely), but a little more certainly has to happen.

Flea, that sounds awful. I'm sorry. I hope you find some happiness in your new home and village.

---

I'm sorry for everyone with stressful years.

Mine was pretty low-key. I got another big raise and celebrated by getting my hair dyed blue and going to NY for a week only to see Broadway shows. Not at the same time. Work was crazy in September and worse in October, when I had to work 7 days a week, 60+ hours a week. It got me four free days of PTO over Christmas. The trip to NY was totally worth it.

I started taking supplements for my migraines, which have definitely lowered the pain level and frequency. Which is great, but also bullshit, because I could have been doing this fifteen years ago. I had tried something similar at point but it didn't work for a couple of possible reasons.

Went and saw friends. Friends came to visit in August, when it was approximately 110 degrees and had been for weeks. My husband's brother and his wife came to visit in October, and that did NOT go well. Fortunately I could genuinely claim to be swamped with work and stay on the sidelines.

I'd like to get out of Texas in 2024.

---

My year was stressful. I do not anticipate that things will be less stressful next year. I do not want to taunt happy fun year. So.

Many things suck. My spouse and child do not, though sometimes it feels like my daughter's speed-running some of the more awkward and regrettable parts of my life history. (Not, like, the relationship drama stuff. Just weird crap that I look back on and cringe about.) However, as she and I have discussed, I know she won't actually take my experience into enough account, as one has to deal with their early adulthood cringe behavior on their own terms.

We went to Italy, my first time outside of the US and Canada. One postcard sent from there got to its destination. Perhaps the card sent will one day, too. The thing I didn't mail from Italy, I mailed from Seattle before Christmas. We'll see if USPS is any more reliable than the Italian postal service. One hopes.

I turn fifty next year, and I'm not sure how I feel about that, but hey. It beats the alternative.

---

I turn fifty next year, and I'm not sure how I feel about that, but hey. It beats the alternative.

I'm sixty next year. It's weird.

My year was stressful. I do not anticipate that things will be less stressful next year. I do not want to taunt happy fun year. So.

Many things suck. My spouse and child do not

It was good of Plei to sum up for me!

I lost several people in the year passing, including both of the adult witnesses to my wedding, the friend who introduced me to the blond guy who hogs the bed, and my last grandparent. I am now officially older than Connie and that was a day. My spouse left work in May for health reasons and hasn't found anything yet. My best friend got an awesome new job in Oregon and while I'm delighted that she is living her best life, there are days when I feel pretty sorry for myself.

And - we moved! I now live near my goddaughter and her family on Whidbey Island - with bonus grandmother duties - can see the Saratoga Passage from my windows and am doing Pilates again, all of which has really helped. Bev and her good spouse are able to visit without ferries being involved; Ken is only 20 minutes away and doesn't have to go through Seattle to come to us.

So, keep going, see what happens.

---

2023 was one hell of a year. It was good, and it was really hard. I started the year with long Covid hanging on, but by May/June it subsided and I've been able to eventually get back to 30 minutes of cardio on the bike. I do seem to still need more sleep than I did pre-Covid, but maybe that's just part of getting older. Our nephew had gender-affirming surgery in March, and he's just flourishing now, which is a joy to see.

We started meeting with a fiduciary to get our financial shit in order, which sent me into such an anxiety spiral that I needed emergency sessions (plural) with my therapist (what the fuck, I didn't know this was a landmine for me). But we persevered, and our shit is mostly in order and we even bought our new car outright instead of financing it.

My mom turned 77 and is still robustly healthy and active (absolute role model). My dad turned 81 and is in terrible shape physically AND YET he just keeps on going. He's still working part time at a thrift store, which is good for him in terms of getting activity and getting social interaction. But he's started seeing the hallucinations again (they had stopped for a while) and he's engaging in some weird hoarding behavior and experiencing severe paranoia. He does have a doctor appointment next week, and I'm going with him, and the goal is to get a referral to a psychiatrist or, if necessary, inpatient care. It's fucking stressful and I resent being his caretaker, but I'm not abandoning him.

You may have heard that Tim had 2 back surgeries [<---sarcasm]. I didn't anticipate how much assistance/caretaking he would need afterwards, and it was so, so hard (my worst fear was that if I fucked it up, I could fuck up Tim's back). But in the end, he couldn't have had a better outcome. The surgeries did exactly what they needed to do, and he's been committed to PT and walking every day, and he's doing incredibly well. He has his life back, and it's wonderful.

Our 10th wedding anniversary was in September. Tim's nephew got married the weekend closest to our anniversary, and I had the honor of officiating. During the reception, nephew and wife announced a special dance for a niece and her husband, because that exact day was also their wedding anniversary, which was a lovely idea. And then partway through that song, they announced that it was also our 10th anniversary and called us out to the dance floor. It was so sweet, and I was overwhelmed with feelings all at once, and I looked at Tim, who was already crying, which set me off. So we celebrated our 10th anniversary crying our way through a dance that Tim would not have been able to even do 7 weeks earlier. I'll never forget that moment.

---

My year was ... I can't tell. I think it was good? Busy. Let's go with busy.

At the very end of 2022, we moved into our new house and started unpacking. Here at the end of 2023, we're still unpacking. I'm hoping to have at least the front room that's the library/parlour completely set up by October of 2024, but who knows?

At the very beginning of 2023, I suddenly had to attend the company kick-off event because of reorgs and me being a brand new manager. It went well, and now a whole lot more people at the company know about the Technical Writing team.

Other stuff: Mr. Loomy had a lot of work assignments, my job continued to be good but full of chaos, I kept on taking a hiatus from updating GCS but have been posting daily "Today's advice from your Goth Auntie" things all over social media. Dad went into the hospital a few times, but FINALLY understands that he has to tell me when things happen, not a few weeks later. I started going to a personal trainer, which I loathe doing but know I need to. We went to England in September.

May 2024 be kinder and gentler to us all.

---

I wanted to edit this but the chances of me having the spoons are… slim.

This fucking year.

Okay, I’m going to start with gratitude because it has been a nightmarish time of conflict and loss, and you can skip all that if you like.

Mostly, I’m grateful for community, that top-notch band of weirdos I have found online and IRL. People who listen to me rant, and let me snuggle their puppies, and support me without judgment through what feels sometimes like an unending shitshow. For y’all, always and forever. For the cards and the advent calendar and the Mardi Gras reservation that is letting me at least take a break from roommate hell.

For the love and care R gave me, even though sometimes I doubt parts of it as manipulation. For the things they taught me about tending to my own needs, and how to be in relationship. For the time I spent with their kids. For the peace of the cabin, sending me off with lunch and having dinner ready when I got out of the shower. For (ahem) the best sex of my life by thousands of miles. For co-regulation just because our feet were touching while we watched tv. For introducing me to pump track and taking care of my injury.

For being there for my mom and family as much as I could and particularly for her last week of life. For the gratitude and wonder she showed me as I cared for her. For the friends who came to the memorial and stayed to clean up afterwards while my mom’s blood family did nothing, which is what they’ve always done. Y’all, they didn’t even bring FOOD. They didn’t even offer. I know their parents were all spinning in their graves. They call themselves Southerners. Ptui. (Whoops! Gratitude section)

For finally feeling free to pursue a relationship with my dad’s sister, with whom I have always felt a kinship.

For finally asking my family to learn about what queer identity means to me and why it isn’t just my “private life.”

End gratitude, begin summary.

At the beginning of 2023, I let go of worrying about my sister and got a burst of energy. I was full of hope and determined to make big changes in my life. Jan 17th, I went out with R for the first time and quickly felt that I’d found my person.

I had three and a half months of almost blissful happiness (aka love bombing). I went back to NC in mid-March on my own terms, had a great lunch with my parents and a terrific weekend with my rugby people. My mom had some abdominal pain but thought it was a hernia.

Two weeks later, she was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer. Six weeks later, she turned 75. Ten days later, she died as my dad, sister, Smidge the canine nurse, and I held her and listened to some favorite music. Brutiful. R provided me with invaluable support during that time, and came up for the memorial, at which I took a big impulsive leap and paid the highest tribute to her I could, coming out to her side of the family and everyone else in attendance in the process.

My dad and father were upset, but have, at least somewhat, forgiven me. My sister may never, truly. At this time, she refuses to be in the same room as me. At least she’s finally back in therapy. We did have some good connections and teamwork during my mother’s illness; at least I think we did. Can’t tell with her, the mask is impeccable.

Oh, and I found out R was about to lose their house and rallied my community (mostly y’all) to keep that from happening. Thank you again.

In June, I think (this year is a mad blur in my brain) my friend/mentor/local dad, Bill, let me know that he had terminal colorectal cancer. We hadn’t seen each other in recent years, partly because I was so tapped out from my sister’s issues, so I made a point of visiting him. I got to see him twice, once introducing him to R, before he stopped accepting any visitors outside his daughters and wife. All my attempts at supporting the family fell through, except for spending three hours cleaning up dog poop at the house hosting the memorial. More brutiful. He died in October. I bought some of his hand tools at his estate sale.

Over the summer, I got some money from my mother’s estate and used it to ease my life and that of R’s. I took them and their kids to Margaritaville, which was a most relaxing and delightful time. No regrets.

R got fired the Sunday we got back. They worked sporadically for existing clients and pursued some other options, but mostly waited for their perfect job to come through. The house note fell behind again. I helped pay bills and buy groceries. No regrets.

R came out to themself and me and their family as trans right after getting fired, and dove fully into exploring femme gender expression. That was intense in a lot of ways, both good and difficult. I felt honored and privileged to witness that phase and support them. I tried to connect them with queer community.

Between those needs, taking care of some of my own (a new computer, paying off car, paying off credit card debt), Taco Tuesdays and breakfast out, and indulging in long coveted shiny things (two pairs of Fluevogs)… I went through my cash inheritance. I’ve still got a good boost for my retirement fund, which barely existed prior, but I do have some regret and shame about not making it last. And I could use it now.

My roommate’s neuroses were incompatible with R and their dog, making time in the apartment emotionally uncomfortable. I spent more and more time at the cabin, having literal panic attacks when I had to go back. She insisted on leaving the a/c off most of the time and so I came home from working in a 90 degree workshop to an 80 degree, humid AF apt. I hid in my bedroom mostly. She avoided me entirely.

Speaking of work, in spring my boss V lost her corporate job that was helping bankroll the window company, their sewer line collapsed, and they signed a five year lease on a shop. They spent all their spare time for over a month getting the shop ready for move-in.

I started noticing a pattern of not getting R’s support at key times, and their defensiveness when I tried to talk to them about what support I needed, and a stone wall around money discussions.

Jesus god, this is long, and there’s so much more. I moved to the cabin and kicked out my roommate. My boss G had his own cancer scare that just ended a week ago. Everyone was on their last nerve, it came to a head one morning, and he sent me home for 3 days. I lost a quarter of my twice a month paycheck when my inheritance cash had run out, and most of my emergency fund, and all we had was someone’s word that R would start work 11/1.

I started having the most frequent and intense intrusive thoughts of my life. I felt overwhelmed by anger and without agency at the apartment, the cabin, or work. As soon as my roommate moved out, R wanted to rearrange everything, start bringing the kids immediately, and have the 2nd bedroom be solely theirs instead of a guest room. When I said I wanted to have more time to get ready before bringing them (like, a couple weeks), their response was anger and sullenness.

At work I tried to step up and take on more responsibilities, only to be denied any office or admin time and told to maximize production time. I spent days isolated in the scraping room with no communication beyond perfunctory greetings, while hearing G and V shoot the shit with visitors and be patient and friendly with our new trainees. Oh, we had to fire someone who nearly burned down the shop and tried to blame it on me. When I had fought for her and defended her and been very patient and friendly.

I finally snapped in November, the week before R got their first paycheck. Rolled up with no notice, two friends, and two deputies on Thanksgiving to get my cat and my stuff. R owes me around $3K, and that not counting a lot of money I spent on groceries and meals out, etc. The freedom was heady at first; as you know I am now back to battling my loneliness, anxiety, and body limitations.

I decided not to go home for the holidays, for a number of reasons. I wanted to balance work and getting things in order.

Then I got the flu for Christmas, which scuttled my social, work, and house plans . And here we are.

I actually reached out to R the other day and they are not interested in talking to me, so I gave us both belated Xmas gifts; they got to end things with finality on their terms and I can finally get my brain to stop its gymnastics, rerunning arguments and whipsawing between regret and anger and gaslighting myself.

I’m giving myself grace because 1) it was my longest relationship in 15 years, and THAT was KBD; 2) there was so much good in it, and it was the deepest love I’d ever felt; 3) I learned a lot from R, both positive and negative; 4) it showed me how much work I still need to do on finding myself and loving her in a real sense; 5) focusing on that loss feels safer right now than dealing with the loss of my mom, and B, and JZ. I regret that I wasn’t able to be more present during JZ’s illness, but I simply didn’t have it. (Did I mention two of my mom’s three siblings also have cancer? Haven’t been there for them, either, but then they’ve never been there for me.)

I need to believe that 2024 will bring better things, and I am planting those seeds. Practicing the not fun self care, the important stuff; stepping into my confidence at work, even when it brings outer conflict; starting to think about my next career move, and being honest about the toll living here takes on me and everyone else; being more intentional about connecting with those I love, instead of trying to make everyone like me; contemplating fostering a dog; etc. making space for grief without letting it take all the space.

So that was the year. I do feel like I am putting myself back together stronger than I was. I don’t have a lot of hope for 2024 but I think if I can stave off complete despair and keep looking for good things, that’s win enough.

---