2013 is going to be a great year. Because I am MAKING it a great year.

I have a confession to make:

2012 was not a good year for me. It wasn't good for me, for many of my friends, and especially for KONY. (Remember #KONY2012 ??? Although I usually have a good laugh referencing #KONY2012 and the weird stuff that happened surrounding it all, I know one person who wasn't laughing: KONY.)

Many people don't know this (hell, this isn't something you wave on a flag in Churchill Square, now is it), but I was suffering from depression for a lot of 2012. It was very up and down, some days/weeks/months/were better than others, but I wasn't myself for most of the year. I could feel it.

*Before I go any further, I need to preface the rest of this post by saying that depression is a serious thing and it comes in all different shapes and forms. I dealt with it one way, but that may not be the way for everyone. Just saying, I love you all and if you feel that you are not yourself and may be suffering from depression, please FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY GO SEE A DOCTOR* 

I need to confess how terribly easy it is to remain in a depressed state. Now, yes, there were things that triggered my bouts of depression (for example: being dumped on New Years Day is not necessarily the best way to start off the year, but you know, nobody's perfect), but sometimes it was just THERE. No rhyme, no reason. It was like a cough I couldn't shake or a wound that wouldn't heal (or like that shadow outside my window that watches me sleep at night...).  There were weeks that went by where all I wanted to do was sit in my ill-fitting sweat pants, eat an ENTIRE stuffed-crust pizza in bed, and finish it up with a box of Oreos. And I DID THAT, ladies and gents. Many, many times.
I could feel it within me not just emotionally, but physically too. I had gained weight (Really Lindsey? By eating stuffed crust pizzas and Oreos all day?? SHOCKING.). I looked (and felt) like a tired bag of poo. Constantly. I didn't want to see anyone or do anything. That was (more or less) my 2012.

But, I did do things. I was in some really great shows. I played some amazing gigs. I also recorded an  lovely EP (which is something I have been wanting to do and working towards for a VERY long time). But I didn't release it. I kept telling everyone (including myself) various reasons why I wanted to wait for the following year to release it, but the fact was, I was scared. Petrified. So absolutely afraid of failing (or maybe even being happy? Hmmm...) that I didn't want to do a Goddamn thing. So I stayed in my safe place: where I kept eating pizza, watching Netflix, and waiting for something better to happen.

How I waited....

And waited...

Nothing. (Again, shocking!)

December was where it all came to a head, I can confess openly. I was more or less an uncontrollable weepy mess (and let's get a few things straight: I do like to weep. I am a weeper. But this was more than my standard weeping). For everyone's enjoyment, I have actually made a list of all the places I cried in public:

-bus
-someone else's car
-Home Depot
-warehouse
-gym
-office
-taxi cab
-in the back of a doctor's office (I was working there... but I was crying in the same area people leave  their urine samples. It was a real hoot.)
-various theatres
-sushi restaurants
-a Value Village
-many bookstores
-LRT (I was also listening to this song on repeat, which made the tears flow even harder)
-restaurant
-in the change room at Suzy Shier
-bar
-Safeways, Save-Ons, and Sobeys

and my personal favorite:

-at a bus stop right outside of a daycare (THAT'S IT CHILDREN, SEE THESE TEARS! THEY ARE REAL ADULT TEARS. THIS IS WHAT YOU HAVE TO LOOK FORWARD TO!)

But about half-way through December, something shifted in me. I wasn't necessarily happier, no. I knew that I had to make changes in order to be happier. I had to do it. Not anyone else in this world could do it. I had to take the first step. I knew that this depression-thang would stick around forever (like some ex-boyfriends, right ladies?!?! OH SNAP! But seriously...) if I let it, and I would be complacent with that. But I wouldn't be happy. So I decided I would do whatever I could to make myself happier, and (hopefully) I would feel a difference. I stopped eating as many packages of Oreos (holy frick was that ever tough). I stopped watching so much Netflix, put on some friggin pants, got to work. I signed up for newsletters that had positive messages and were motivating for what I wanted to do with my life. I started writing again. I began planning for my 2013. I decided that 2013 was going to be a great year for me because I was going to MAKE it a great year for me. And yes, there would be days that weren't going to be good ones, and that was okay. But I would work my butt off to make sure it would be (and I would be) okay. I knew that I would have to work super duper hard in 2013, but it would be worth it. So here I am.

I am not saying this is for everyone. We have all had different experiences, events, and changes in our lives to get us to where we are today. But this is what I did, and am going to continue to do. As I write this, I can feel that I am happier than I have been in a long long while.

I implore you all to look deeply within and if there is anything you can do to make yourself happier, try it out. You may be surprised at what a little change may do.

I will personally try my hardest to continue to do what I can to be happy in 2013. I hope you will do the same.

Until next time,

The girl who is excited for 2013.

A public apology from me. The NON-blogger.

I realize that I haven't been a great blogger.

I haven't even friggin blogged (is that a term?) for almost a YEAR.

Yet I noticed today that I have had over 100 page views in the last month.

WHAT?!?!

That makes absolutely no sense at all, especially seeing that I haven't even been looking at my own page.

SO WHO KEEPS CHECKING BACK?!?!?

Lord only knows. I keep picturing someone waking up every Goddamned morning like it's friggin Christmas or something hoping for a present under their metaphorical tree.  But alas, no matter how many times they refresh this page there are no new posts.

NOTHING.




So this post is for you, you creepy, excitable internet stalker you.

2012 IS HERE!!  *shoots imaginary guns into the sky (or in my case an imaginary ninja on the ceiling)*

...so are we going to all die in horrible and unimaginable ways this year?  No no.  Well, Maybe some of you *wink*, but definitely not me because...

THIS IS MY YEAR!!!


So how many of you have heard someone say that before?

"Last year was okay, but this year I feel it.  This year is MY year.  It will be the year of ME."

Ummmm... yeah.... right.....sure....

I'd love to crawl inside these weirdos' brains and see how long the hamster has been dead on the wheel.  Seriously though, wouldn't it be safe to say that every year is "your" year because you are still alive and able to continue on with your existence??

Secret: I did kind of say that to myself this year.

But ONLY after I had a mild nervous breakdown 2 weeks into this glorious year.  So, I think it's okay.

....right?

No.  There is no excuse for the fact that I want 2012 to be "the year of me".  But just hear me out, k?

I started this year with some major changes being thrown at me (the specifics aren't necessary here... sorry all of my stalkers) and I felt that there were many important aspects of my life that were completely out of my control.  I was just running around with life happening around me and I was just out of reach from everything I really cared about.  So I did what any 27-year old woman would do:

I sat on the floor of my living room in complete darkness and wept like a wee baby.  (to be fair, I think that is better than a lot of amazing 27-year olds I look up to... Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, and Nat Jaffe... (look him up))

I quickly realized that I couldn't live this way so I made a list (ask my stalkers - I LOVE LISTS) of all the things out of my control with all the possible outcomes of these things.  I finished the note, and stared at it.  Everything was now in within my control because all the outcomes were clearly listed on paper.  Somehow that helped me get back on track.

PHEW.

So here I am, almost one month into 2012, and I am feeling like I am ready to take on the world.  And I will.  Because it's all within my control.

Until the next time I need to be a bit more introspective (I promise this won't be what I post about all the time),

The girl who is making every year our year.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

P.S.  I thought I would also put together a small list (see?!?! I LOVE EM!) of some hilarious moments since I last posted:

-the time the guy came into the clinic I was temping at and legit flirted with me while explaining he needed to get an STD check from "all the ladies" he'd been with
-the time my dishwasher exploded and all I could do was say "holy shit" repeatedly
-I pushed my car with my kayak strapped to the roof to a new dwelling
-I went out of my way to grab cats
-I played a music gig where I also got to be in an old saloon fight
-The local radio mentioned me as I was stepping out of the shower
-I started making jam and set my stove on fire

Once upon a time in a dumpster, there lived a Princess who had 36 cats...

On the weekend, I was a princess.

I wore a wedding dress (that I OWN, thank you very much...) to a four-year-old girl's princess themed birthday party and showed up as a real princess.

Surprisingly, I have done weirder gigs.

And as much as I wanted to show up hammered with makeup running from my eyes because of the running-tap-like tears that wouldn't stop weeping about how love doesn't exist and your very own Prince Charming will soon enough leave you for a better version of you, I didn't.  I gave those four-year-olds a show they will never forget.  Nor will I.

Now besides the fact that one teeny child saw that I had grease on the bottom of my dress
(Her: Princess, your dress looks like a car ran over it.
Me: Well, my carriage broke down and Prince Charming had to get more gas and I was on the side of the road and there were TRUCKS.
Her: Oh.
Me:  Well, like other things in a Princess' life, I will hide the ugliness and just show off the beautiful dress.
Her:  That's better.)
And the fact that all of my stories were held together with lies, charm, and the overwhelming fear of dying at the hands of children, I think I pulled off being a princess quite well.

Not that I had any practice as a child myself.

You see, I was what you would call a "obese" child.  "Rotund".  "Chunky".  "Hideously fat".  I never really liked any of the Disney movies growing up because it instilled the idea that the skinny beautiful girls would have horrible lives until their "Prince Charming" came along.  And let's face it:  if those girls are having tough lives before they found true love, what about the crap girls would go through who had to wear ladies size 14 jeans in grade 4?  Well, I guess they are just doomed to a life of flirting with the pizza delivery guy because they hadn't left their house in a week and living with the fear that if they fall down (presumably from becoming winded from going up the stairs) their 7 cats will eventually eat away at their rotting corpse because no body would realize they had died. I had figured that this would be the way my life would go until one fateful day when I met my role model.

Her name was Ursula.

She was a massively obese octopus.

Once I saw the power Ursula had in her 8 tentacles (dude, she TOOK SOME CHICK'S VOICE.  WHO DOES THAT?!?!) I knew that ANYTHING was possible.

So I bought a wedding dress, and played the waiting game.

After the realization occurred that I in fact was not a two-tonne octopus destined for evil (and that "The Little Mermaid" was not in fact a documentary about the life of under-sea royalty...), I set off to make use of my newly found wedding dress the best way I knew how... I made people feel uncomfortable.

One of the gigs I had to do with said dress was to sit in the food court of the West Edmonton Mall and be a part of a scavenger hunt.  People had to find the "devastated bride" which meant (you guessed it) I had to sit there - bawling.  For hours.  The other food court-goers were confused (and I do not blame them) as I sat there crying my eyes out.  I would sometimes grab a pop or some fries, which made it even worse (Food court goer: "Look sweetie, she's eating her pain") but I soldiered on.  I look at this experience as a real-life foreshadowing of the life that I will lead, and if that's the case, BRING IT ON. 

If there are any teeny girls reading this blog who want to become princesses when they grow old, I hope you see how the fall from Princess to Random girl bawling in a wedding dress in a food court eating KFC is a slippery slope.

But it sure is a fun one!

Until my prince wakes me up from this rohipnol-induced dream with a creepy kiss,

Princess Ursula