Let’s hope it’s a good one.
It’s New Year’s Eve, maybe New Year’s Day, and you’re lying in bed, alone, reflecting on the year that is nearly over or that has just recently passed.
Why am I still alone? Why do I still not have more than one person to send New Year’s messages to? Why am I still in a job that I hate?
And then you compare yourself to others.
She’s in Australia now. She has her own business. She’s pregnant and engaged to be married.
He published his third best-selling book last year, and he’s only nineteen. I’m [insert any age over nineteen], and I haven’t even written a full first draft, let alone gotten a book or three published. Published by a real publisher, too. God, that rarely even happens these days!
You might turn over to find your stuffed rabbit tucked away in the corner of your bed. Although he’s been stuffed in that corner all year, today this makes you tearful, and floods of tears stream down your face. You press your hand over your mouth to stifle the sobs even though nobody else will hear you because you are alone in the flat.
You cry for an hour, and then you fall asleep for another. When you wake up, you feel a bit better, and you sit up in bed. It’s hard to move your face because it is rigid from all the crying you’ve done, but you give it a gentle massage, preparing it for round two, which you’re almost certain will come later after you’ve eaten all of the chocolate cake you know you shouldn’t.
But now, you’re okay. You’re ready to give positivity a hearing. You compile a list in your head about all the things you want to achieve this year. This list is remarkably similar to lists made in previous years, but you overlook that for the time being. You’re trying to give positivity a full hearing…
Positive thinking = positive results. Who said that? You don’t remember. Perhaps you even came up with that little gem on your own. You clever thing, you.
You get up and head for your wardrobe. What can I wear that will inspire greatness today? You take out a tight-fitting dress that is completely inappropriate to wear on your own in a flat, but you wear it anyway because you look fabulous in it, darling. Even the shockingly cruel bathroom mirror tells you so.
You put on your favourite song and skip along to it whilst wondering whether you should dig out your black stilettos from under the bed. You give into temptation, and while on your knees, head peering under the bed, your phone rings. You bang your head in your rush to retrieve your phone.
“Hello, darling. Happy New-”
“And you,” you say, cutting her off before she can say it.
“Thank You. Let’s hope it’s a good one…”
How far does hope get you?
Granted, if you’re in a dire situation and there is nothing else you can do, hope can be something, it can be comforting. But ultimately, I think hope keeps you where you are.
I hope I have more friends this coming year even though I intend to do exactly what I did last year to get them, which was very little if anything at all.
I hope I can do better this year.
If you don’t want to be in exactly the same position year in and year out, give hope the boot. Simply hoping things will change is the best way to keep everything exactly the same.
Happy New Year.