Last Friday I "celebrated" my 34th birthday and honestly, it wasn't a bad birthday but it wasn't a great birthday either.
I had some sort of plan to go out that night and had multiple options available to me; options which I was looking forward to choosing from. My options included; 1) Go to Knox and watch sports at Sporting Globe and listen to DJ either at the Sporting Globe or at Urban Brewery 2) Go down to the Stammo and enjoy a night out at Flanagans 3) Take a bus to Ringwood and head to Void Nightclub and their over-28s on Friday night.
Instead, I ended up with none of the above and chose a different option 4) Watching the semi-finals of the FIBA Basketball World Cup
Yes, I chose the stay-at-home option because unfortunately, it was too damn cold and wet to go out and about. While it wasn't a bad option at all, given how much I've enjoyed watching the World Cup, it also seemed to be the world telling me (again) that "even though I struggle on my birthday; even if I want to go out to try and celebrate it, there will be no celebrating it."
When I think back on the year between 33 and 34 though, I think of it as one of the toughest years of my life. It was a year that I thought would allow me to continue to grow but instead...it was a year that had some highs followed by some very messy troughs. There was the excitement at moving from the eastern suburbs to the western suburbs and a chance to grow as a person. There was the reality that there was a psychological benefit, especially regarding travel to and from work. I found that I felt like I was actually travelling to a destination instead of the stop/start crap on the Belgrave/Lilydale line. There was also the high of Gather Round 2023 where I was able to go to Adelaide and enjoy an unforgettable few days where it seemed I could forget all my problems. I was able to enjoy drinks while going to the football, exploring Adelaide and enjoying anonymity but it was there that it all stopped. Barely 3 weeks after that, a combination of mental health struggles and marriage stress saw me commit myself voluntarily to the Wyndham Private Health Clinic. It would end up being 50 long and hard days where I realised less than 2 weeks from leaving, that I was completely broken and no longer knew who I was, where I was going and what I wanted in life. It was the final acknowledgement that I had blown my life up completely and had destroyed almost everything. To then get out immediately and end up at a funeral less than 2 weeks later just sent me spiralling further and then adding that to the issues in trying to get my healthcare sorted and back on track, things were just demoralising for me. While I have slowly gotten back on track, it seems like everything has gone full circle as I am now back living at my parents' place indefinitely. As I look back on my last 12 months (with tears coming out of my eyes) and not knowing what the future holds for me, I am left with a lot of fear but at the same time, a small twinkle of hope. I am right now scared that my mental health will land me back in a mental health clinic before long and scared that I have not much in the way of prospects. The only twinkle of hope right now is that I am planning a summer of sports and different events but even then, I know that things seem to be too good to be true if I am planning for such a possibility. I don't know what these next 12 months hold but right now I would love a 12-month period where I am NOT hospitalised for mental health whether voluntarily or otherwise.
I would love a 12-month period where I have more ups than downs and can actually get my healthcare to a functioning level.
I would love a 12-month period where I can start experiencing more things and actually trying to live. My last 12 months were as tough as tough to be. Hopefully, the next 12 months prove to be the complete opposite.
Whether that happens or not, only time will tell.
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