Dear 2015, Screw You [READ]

      This page may contain compensated links. For more information read our disclaimer.



      Dear 2015,
      There are just a few important things to say, here. I just need to get them off my chest. You have been an integral part of my life for around a year now, but I want you gone… disappear!
      I’m out. Screw you.
      2014 had started out so well, spending New Years in Cambodia then going on to travel India and discovering the powers and relaxation of meditation and yoga. I checked out London and lived on an island in Mexico where I found love, or at least I thought it was.
      I had amazing plans for you, I was going to cruise around the Caribbean Islands on a yacht and alight in South America, where I would work my way slowly south. Everything was bliss, but you were lurking in the shadows, ready to screw everything. 
      2015, you’ve caused me nothing but pain before our alliance ever even came to fruition. At Christmas last year I got news that my mum had terminal cancer… and then everything changed.
      ‘How long did she have to live?’ was the thought circling around and around in my head.
      Should I book a ticket immediately or wait for the answer?
      And just as the being that you were, the news was revealed to me on New Year’s Eve, my mother had less than six months to live.
      I write to you now with the objectiveness that only a years’ worth of time can give. But I assure you, in that moment I was in pieces. With an already decaying relationship, only made worse by the news I felt like I lost touch with myself, my life, my control.
      Everything was out of control.
      And as the new year came into being, with everyone around me drunk on the pulsating vibes and salty air, my entire world crumbled around me.
      As 2015 was starting with a bang, I fell into what I can only describe as the closest I’ve ever been to stepping over into the other side. The side where you aren’t in touch with reality anymore. The side that you can’t remember when you come back… IF you come back.
      But I did come back…sort of.
      I awoke new years day into your bitter caress. I knew nothing of the night before and was completely numb other than an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach.
      On the first of January, I lost my boyfriend and my travel buddy… I had said some things in the darkness that just couldn’t be taken back. I learnt of these things from him. Disgusting things that shouldn’t be said to a lover.
      So I booked my ticket home and abandoned my travels.
      After an extortionately overpriced ticket and a missed connection which resulted in two missed flights I finally arrived home, already knowing that the worst was yet to come.
      You only gave me a month an a half with my mother. That was all. That was it.
      By the time I got home, she couldn’t speak or eat. She was half the size of when I saw her last and was bent over and gaunt, cancer literally eating her.
      But the fight in her enabled her to continue spending time in her garden and create more art. She never stopped creating. Even on her last day, she was able to scribble lines into a colouring book. 
      In March 2015, you took my mum from me, from my sisters, from the world. And I couldn’t do a thing to stop it.
      With no job and living in my mothers’ house, I tried to rebuild my life, obtain new goals, find purpose and passion again.
      But you just delivered hit after hit.
      A few months later, I received news about my health that I don’t yet feel ready to write about. But this happening after everything else, I decided to start seeing a psychologist and put myself on anti-depressants for the first time in my life. 
      Screw you, 2015. Why couldn’t you just leave me be?
      Was that all a test? Did I pass?
      I guess so because I’m still here.
      The worst was over, but foul remnants of you surfaced and re-surfaced, trying to pull me down while I struggled to keep my head above.
      I wish 2016 had been there to save me,  but it was only you. You and me, Time.
      The problem is, I can’t actually hate you, 2015. Because despite the raging winds you threw at me, I found moments of calm and bliss in the faces of the people who cared for me and the things around me that I cared for.
      People showing they were there was my main coat of arms protecting me. And while they’re reading this, I sincerely thank them for being there.
      My garden and my writing have become my distraction, and yoga and meditation my temple. Everything I needed to help me though, was right there next to me the entire time.
      And then there was happiness, so very much happiness. Due to the amount of sheer sorrow I was feeling, in those moments of happiness, it was the most intense I’ve ever felt.
      You just cannot feel the raw intensity of happiness without experiencing true sadness. 
      And with that, I bid you farewell. Screw You, 2015. I’m glad you’re gone. 
      Crissies logo
      Categories: From the Diary, Stories
      Crystal Egan

      Passionate baby goat cuddler and part-time adventurer, Crystal can often be found doing headstands on the edges of cliffs, taking photos of abandoned buildings or sleeping on deserted islands with dangerous criminals. She has too many awesome stories and helpful tips to keep them all to herself so follow along and in return she will bring you inspiring pictures, travel videos and a whole load of fun!

      1. Pingback: [READ] Mexico and a Painful Love - Castaway with Crystal

      2. Pingback: Should you go to India...? Can you accept her? - Castaway with Crystal

      Leave a Reply

      Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *