If I’m going to remember anything about this year, is that it’s the year of destruction and rebirth. Or at least that’s what I thought, in April of this year. I had goals, plans and ideas on how to move ahead, and get on with my life. The only problem was, I forgot who I’d have to get to do all this: myself.

I have a cavalcade of mental issues: C=PTSD, anxious attachment, anxiety, and depression. Add in a surfiet of trauma responses and possible ADHA and possibly being on the lower end of the autism spectrum, and I am a mess.

So I set out a bunch of goals. And I set dates to hit those goals. And you know what happened? Every single one of those goal dates came and went. I missed every single one. And on a lot of levels, I spiraled down.

The response of many of you, I’m sure, is that I can reset those goals. Move them down the timeline. Those people don’t live with my brain. They don’t live with a brain that constantly tells them that they’re a failure, and that they are not worthy of anything good or kind in this world. That better is impossible for them. I do.

But when I was down there, thinking dark thoughts, I had people come into my life. People who reminded me that every day is a gift. That every morning is a chance to start again. And yes, starting over is hard. It’s easy to give up, to surrender to ennui and darkness. Ive done it far too much. And I now fight against it, every day. Every day I get up, and get moving, is another day that the darkness hasn’t won. That the black dog is still at the gate, but he’s not won yet.

So if you’re thinking you should quit on your goals and dreams, please don’t. Know that by not giving up, you give hope to people like me. That every day is another roll of the dice, and it can’t roll a 1 every day. Good night.