The arbitrary nature of the linear progression of time (and... all things) is something I think I've grumbled about here before, but 2018 feels pretty significant. In the summer it will be ten years since I left an unhappy, chaotic marriage (a good decision!) and entered (young, stupid, vulnerable) into what turned out to be a miserable, controlling relationship, which ended two years ago this May. Although this brought me to a city I am happy in, and led to me meeting lots of wonderful humans, I do look back with frustration at all that time lost. And it will also be three years in June since my lovely, stupid, genius idiot of a father died of a heart attack at 58. And two years in March since my mother's suicide. The years have looped round indifferently, while I've been sat with the pieces of my life scattered about me. It feels as though now is the time to put them back together.
I'm still grieving, of course. Still ill with a pain disorder and CPTSD. But that doesn't mean it isn't time to get unfucked.
So, I present the Jamifesto 2018. And if you're reading this, I hope that you achieve whatever it is that you want this year.
