i was gonna kill myself last year; last week, on christmas eve, my first holiday where i was officially, truly alone. my family doesn't even celebrate christmas, but it's so steeped into to our culture as a time for friends and family, that knowing how alone i was that night, and knowing the night that other people were having, made it feel like the saddest thing ever. i couldn't get away from it: all the christmas movies and christmas-themed youtube videos and even fucking animal crossing; anywhere i could possibly turn to for escapism just shoving it in my face reminding me: you do not have this. i was ready to do it, it'd been a long time coming for me anyways, but then the people my parents hired to watch our family's dogs while they all went on vacation without me called to ask me if i could come over and watch the dogs. they wanted to go home to their families for christmas. so, i went over to my parents' place, and i watched the dogs, and i lived. i guess the feeling passed. i guess it always does eventually, or so i'm told. and now it's six days later, new year's eve, and i still haven't done it. i figured, fuck it, why not suffer six more days to make it to the new year? after all, there's always fireworks on new years, and people want to go out and see them. someone needs to be around to watch the dogs. so for now at least, that's why i'm around. the ball just dropped on tv and here i am: high as a kite, surrounded by dogs, and alive. so far, this year is going much better than the last one did. happy new year.