While the new year is usually met with jubilation, I confess that I myself have come to dread it. For some, this abrupt end to the holiday season brings a sigh of relief and a breath of reflection, but for me, I’ve noticed a pattern in the last few years that the sudden lack of busyness just gives me a chance to be alone with my own thoughts. The prospect of making the most out of a new year is overwhelming to me. Plans and resolutions open up the possibilities of failure, which are not a pleasant thought. These little fears begin the ripples of negativity that eventually grow into a tsunami, leaving me to drown in my own self-doubt and feelings of worthlessness. Every January, my self-esteems tanks, I feel like a hack at everything I do and I want to quit all of it–photography, art, dance…everything. The thoughts go on and on. “Your work is terrible.” “No one likes any of the garbage you make.” “Nobody likes YOU.” “You dance like a hippopotamus.” “Why are you not an astronaut?” “WHY DO YOU EVEN TRY?” Ugh.
I don’t know how to combat these feelings except to either A) Keep busy or B) Become a hermit, and B is not an option. For 2016, my goals are to paint more, potty train Imogen, and try not to lose my mind. Those are the biggies. Happy New Year!