2023 Sucked

That’s a good enough title. The original draft was called “Where I’ve Been,” dated from November 2023, and that thing has since been trashed along with three other drafts about whatever. Sometimes it’s easier to start over than to polish up some drivel from months/years ago. The original title was pretty accurate though; this post was always meant to be a “Here’s where I’ve been!” type of thing. It’s one of those update posts that I always do when I fall out of the blogging habit. Here we go. Again.

My last post was April 2023 (I think) and it was about…oh who cares. 2023 was supposed to be my year, the year I got my shit together. I was off to a good start too, if I’m remembering correctly. Atomic Habits and weightlifting. Eating healthier. I even bought a new bike, a nearly-$1,000 new bike, and was commuting to work for a decent portion of the year.

And this deserves its own blog post, but its own paragraph for the time being will have to suffice: I quit vaping back in February. Or March. It’s all fuzzy. Anyone who’s ever quit or even tried to cut a nicotine addiction knows it’s a rough time and I did it twice. Hopefully there won’t need to be a third time.

It’s obvious 2023 will take a turn for the worse and you’d be correct. In July my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Ouch, that’s a rough one. Seriously, go look up survival rates for that type of cancer: it’s bleak. Dad’s was caught at stage II and into chemo he went for the last half of year. Chemo did what chemo does — fuck your body up — while only mildly fucking the cancer up. Pancreatic cancer does not fuck around.

For 2024: In early January Dad was upgraded to stage IV isn’t gonna make it. How long he has I do not know — I’ve been too scared to ask — but I’m not expecting to see him for my birthday in June. And I don’t think he’ll make it nearly that long…

Anyways, this type of situation kinda kills your mood to do…anything really, especially blog. Looking back I wouldn’t even consider it depression. I was functioning and all and not in the worst possible mood considering the whole situation, but everything else in life seemed hilariously trivial. Like how could I blog about petty shit while my dad was dying of cancer? I suppose when you’re faced with the grim and final ending we all will have daily it’s difficult to play the game of life. It’s hard to find joy in shit. It’s hard to laugh. It’s hard to just enjoy life for the temporary silliness it is. Life seems too fucked up. Too serious. Too much of a fucked up joke. Blogging? Fuck no I’m not blogging. What’s the point?

Maybe that was depression. Lul.

Hey. Hello! Here I am. Life is always about playing the game I guess. With death at the end and everything being temporary, everything being pointless, you might as well just…oh who fucking cares I’m not doing this pseudo-uplifting shit here. That was my 2023. That’s why I haven’t written. 2024 is already gonna suck but at least I’m aware of exactly how and why it’s gonna suck. Maybe I can do a few blogging shitposts along the way too. Bye.