I haven’t actually written about 2012. I don’t know why that is, maybe because I found the bandwagon of “The Year That Was” blogs a bit tedious, or maybe because I don’t really give a crap about the whole change of year thing. To me, January 1st is the same as June 13th and the same as October 2nd. I don’t personally see a reason to celebrate and reflect and so on – the days all run into one another anyway, and before you wipe the sleep from your eyes, it’s not 2013, it’s 2020 and there are kids, and a picket fence and 2 dogs and a husband and an SUV.
January was hell, I was hopelessly in love with a boy I’d met on twitter, met on New Year’s morning in real life, and had somehow managed to get into my head as “the one”. I’m female so it does have a habit of doing that. I then had my first one night stand, with someone who wasn’t the boy I’ve just mentioned. Very out of character for me, and frankly, I should have seen the signs then.
February was spent mostly in Cape Town with my parents while I was on leave, something I will again be doing this year, and I can’t wait because now I will not just be visiting, I will be house-hunting with my boyfriend as we plan to move down to Cape Town end of June.
March was uneventful. I don’t actually remember much about March… I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. March was the month that I decided to move to Hong Kong, which sparked the events of April.
April. Well, April. That was a doozy. April was spent in a psychiatric hospital. I went in on the 10th, which I think was a Tuesday. That Sunday I had been out to Zeplins with a friend, hooked up with boy number one from January, thrown a drunken hissy fit that he wouldn’t sleep with me, and woke up completely catatonic the next morning, Easter Monday. Don’t misunderstand, it wasn’t the fact that he wouldn’t sleep with me that made me realize I was in a fit of depression, I was just sent off, it was the straw which broke the camel’s back, as it were. That Tuesday, I told my doctor to have me committed, and I was booked in on Thursday. My Mom arrived from Cape Town the Friday morning, and I spent the next 3 weeks in hospital, and came out on the 1st of May. April was also when I met my current boyfriend, who I am very happy with, he completes me, and we’ve been together about 8 months now.
May was when I moved. I left the branch I was in, and away from the toxic work-environment, and moved out of the house I was in, and into another one. This seemed to work like a charm, and I have been doing amazingly well ever since.
June, July and August were uneventful. What stands out in my mind was driving to my home town to see my best friend get married in July. I was the only one of our school friends invited, I speeched, I cried and I got to share the moment with Rickus.
September I turned 25. This was a bit of a scare for me, I didn’t really like the idea. I can vaguely remember my birthday party, though I have a stronger memory of lying on the bathroom floor crying in a fit of drunken depression than anything else.
October, November were rather uneventful. Nothing stands out at all.
December I moved in with my boyfriend, and we began to plan our life in Cape Town, together. It’s all a bit daunting, as I do truly love my life in Pretoria, but it’s time to move on. I’ve never been one to stay still for too long and frankly, 3 years seems a bit longer than I’d ever planned. Cape Town was always the plan, I’m just about a year or two too late.
That was my 2012. I didn’t hate it that much. I was blessed with very little drama sans a trip to the loony bin, I paid off my debts, I made a bit of headway with my life, and I met the man who I plan to spend the rest of my life with, if he’ll have me, and universe willing.
I don’t hold much hope for 2013. I don’t believe in all that “new year” nonsense, as I’ve said, so I’d much rather just tell you that I’m going to make of every day what I can, and what I want, and may whatever you believe in help you if you try get in my way.
Over and out peeps J