I wrote a couple of weeks ago about all the things I'd done in 2012, about what a momentous time it's been for me. (I forgot to include both turning 40 and taping a pitch pilot for BRAVO. Really. I've done a lot this year.)
But now the year end is approaching, neither rapidly nor unexpectedly—it happens the same way each year. My therapist asked me to work on a list of things I don't want to carry with me into 2013. I've been thinking about it for days, writing both in my head and on actual paper that was later burned in the fire. Now, though, I thought it time to share that here.
I do not want unavailable men. Maybe that seems like a no-brainer, but I have this tendency to attract such beings into my life. Whether logistically or emotionally, I am magnetically attracted to the men who are least likely to be able to share their life or mine. Maybe it's something about their being inherently broken—a fragile cat. They're soft and pretty and purr when I pet them, but they can't give what I need or want in return. I don't want that anymore.
I do not want stasis. I don't want to be stuck in the past or in the present. I'm a creature that likes movement, and I want to continually move forward in my life. It doesn't always have to be incredibly exciting; there just needs to be momentum. And I recognize that there are times when I need to sit still, for just a moment, and absorb what's going on around me. Like a stop on a commuter train, it needs to come and go in its necessity so that I can go on to the next place.
I do not want addiction. Mine or anyone else's. Absolem has always said that I have an addictive personality. He's right and wrong, of course, like he always is. His point was that I can easily get wrapped up and a bit obsessive about things—whether life or love or experience. In my constant quest to understand my life, I do examine the details, over and over, until I have exhausted my understanding. Sometimes that's just exhausting to the people around me, too. But this is where I go back to my not wanting unavailability. I don't want to be caught up in someone else's addiction, whether literal substance or figurative obsession. I want to healthily carry my own burdens and not enable anyone else's.
I do not want fear. I've written a lot about finding the impetus to overcome my own fears, usually of myself. There will always be things that scare me. I don't want the paralysis that comes with being afraid to make a choice or live my life. This is probably the root of most of my historical stasis, and I want to be strong enough to swallow it down and move past the apprehension.
I do not want anger. There's a lot for me to be angry about, both with myself and with others. I don't want to hang onto that anger, finding it to be the only fuel to move me forward. I want to make peace with the past—with the unavailable men and the static and the addictions and the fear—and to let it go. Not letting go keeps the pain of the past so very present. I want to be able to look at those things and see them clearly in perspective, from a mild distance where they don't feel so cogent anymore.
There are also a lot of things I do want. I want Persona Non Grata to be successful. (Thank you to everyone who has purchased it and downloaded it so far. Your reviews and kind comments are incredibly important to me.) I want to be productive writing the next book, Mantissa, which I started this week. I want to enjoy my life with my children and to find ways to enjoy this new life on my own. It's not what I'd planned or expected a year or even six months ago, but it's my life, no matter what. And I will do everything I can to make my mark on this place in time.
Thank you to everyone who has supported and encouraged me this year. You have been often effervescent in your love, and I am deeply appreciative of that. As big as 2012 was, here's to hoping 2013 is even bigger and better. I'll let you know how it goes as I live it.