January 1st, 2017. Sunday. 7:34am. Feeling pretty tired to be honest…

 

I woke up to a total of 148 notifications on my phone, all saying pretty much the same thing: “Happy New Year!” Of course, there was the odd person who’d affectionately drop a “bitch” or “loser” on the end, but the same message still stands. All I can say is oh how glad I am to see the back of 2016.

 

Last year was rough. We lost so much: legends; friends; family; dignity. I don’t know about you, but I almost want to print myself an “I survived 2016!” shirt. Almost. Never have I personally experienced a year that can be summed up with pretty much any expletive in my vocabulary. We said goodbye to Prince, Bowie, Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds. Even Christina Grimmie. Alan Rickman. The list seems infinite. More nerve-striking to me were the events of June 12th, when a shooter (who I won’t name, despite his infamy across the internet) tore through Pulse nightclub in Orlando and stole the lives of so many from the LGBT+ community. My family. A few days ago, December 27th to be precise, I lost someone I loved unconditionally, someone who loved me unconditionally back. Those scars don’t heal quickly.

 

Of course, it wasn’t all bad. If last year hadn’t happened I may never have met some of the most incredible people in the world. My experience with the National Citizen Service introduced me to some of the best friends I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet, and I hope that 2017 can build upon that bond we already have.

 

Take last year as one long, rather hands-on life lesson. There were laughs, tears, wounds which never quite seemed to heal before being inflicted again, but we can learn from all that. Next time you’ll know that maybe, just maybe, drinking an entire bottle of Baileys by yourself isn’t such a great idea. Next time you’ll think twice about voting “for the hell of it”. Next time, you’ll think.

 

So, bring on 2017!

 

I have this weird kind of personal tradition where, at midnight on January 1st (or the second I wake up, like this morning), I put my music on shuffle and take the first song of the new year as a prediction (warning) for the next 12 months of my life. BeforeA HUGE SPIDER JUST CRAWLED ACROSS MY HAND I’M OUT

 

January 1st, 2017. Sunday. 8:46am. On edge.

 

Right, I’ve calmed down. If that was an indication for how this year’s going to play out then we are all officially screwed. Anyway, back to my New Year’s tradition.

 

The first song I listened to this year was History by One Direction, which probably means that this year will be full of irony and confusion. (If you got that joke, I’m so sorry.) Funnily enough, I was talking to one of my best friends back in 2016 (yesterday) about how much I’m getting into One Direction. All it took was a Twitter hiatus to get away from the vicious virtual fangirl world, and poof! Fan. The song itself, through my ears, seems toΒ follow the anxious worrying of somebody scared of losing a close friend. So, in other words, the writers spent a day following me round with a voice recorder and put a wonderfully catchy tune to my vocal thoughts. Rather disconcertingly, that could suggest that nothing’s going to change; I’m going to be just as anxiety-riddled as I was throughout 2016. Yikes.

 

It could also mean that I’m going to spend this year in a good place (this song is SO DAMN CATCHY!), making memories and ruling the world with the best people I know.

 

Gosh, I hope it’s the latter.