2015 was the year of learning to just STFU and keep unnecessary comments to myself. The year of friends becoming enemies. Of taking a dive into a new job. Of $700 per month anti-psychotics that don’t really do much to curb depression. Of piling up more debt than intended. Of losing people, not only to anger but also to anxiety. Of a desperate need for companionship combined with the deafening voice of misanthropy. It was a year of learning to be less critical. Of trying to accept things that cannot be changed, not easily if at all. Dead, starving garden plats. Of shaving my head. Of growing my hair. 2015 was a hard year. Today was a hard day. Resolutions won’t make it any better. All I can do is remember to take things one day at a time. Remember that just because today was bad it doesn’t mean tomorrow will be. Remember to say, “I’m sorry.” Remember that everything is not my fault, even if some things are. Remember to take a deep breath every now and then. To keep breathing. Even when it hurts.