2016, fuck you

Yea, fuck you right up the ass, you fucking bitch of a year.

You’ve given the world a rabid Cheeto as supposedly the most powerful man in the world. You’ve taken a lot of my favourite artists. And you’ve given me a whole hell of a lot of anxiety, worse than it’s ever been.

So yea, forget about the positive year-end reviews, there’s been like two good things, Suicide Squad, which in all honesty wasn’t a mind-blowing mastepiece of cinema, but it worked for me rather well, and then there was Rogue One, which was a bloody masterpiece in every single way one can imagine. It was marvellous and I loved it so much it’s not healthy.

But it was a terrible year all in all. Started out with Bowie dying. I wasn’t the biggest fan, but I surely can appreciate he was an icon and as such, his death was a great loss to the world. Then there was Alan Rickman, whose death was so devastating to many of my close friends, that it made it hit hard for me as well. One of those friends was someone, who just before Christmas on this cursed Cthulhu-excrement of a year lost her father, a man I used to call my spare-dad, because we were like sisters through much of my childhood and teenage years. So yea, fuck you 2016.

I had the most terrible episodes of anxiety I’ve ever had towards the end of the year. I couldn’t go to a shop at all for weeks. I wasn’t even able to think about going to a shop without feeling like I was suffocating. I do not know, to this day, what caused it, but I suspect it was the stress of school. It’s really promising to be good next spring, because there’ll be loads more to do with school, so I will not -in all honesty- be the least bit surprised if I have to be hospitalized this coming spring, due to anxiety and my bipolar spiralling out of hand.

And talking about bipolar, one of the biggest reasons I stopped being afraid of my illness and started talking openly about it, Carrie Fisher, the spacemom the world deserved, died on December 27th. I was still in shock about the death of George Michael, of whom I wasn’t either the biggest fan, but a fan still. I have to get back to both Carrie and George on separate posts, because they both deserve it, playing a large part on my life.

I’m going to stay up past midnight on the 31st of December just to see 2016 die. And fuck all of this next year positivity. I’m going to grab 2017 by the throat and curb stomp them if they decide to fuck with me because I have had Itâ„¢.

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