thirty five

i don't care much for my birthday. it comes and it goes. it's like the nightcap for an already subpar holiday season. and every year i'm glad when it's over.

i'll be 35 soon and i'm not really looking forward to that. it brings up feelings similar to how i felt turning 30. but it is a good time for me to reflect on the past 5 years.

in 2020 i was living with roommates who didn't like me. in September they essentially pushed me out after giving me a laundry list of reasons they wanted me to leave (having had no conversations about any of this at all prior to dumping it all on me). they gave me until January and i was out of that house by November.

2021 into 2022 i was living in an LGBTQ+ sober house. it was honestly a pretty lax year.

in June of that year i got to move out here to the Bay. by September i was on my own in San Francisco.

2023 was rough but i persevered. i rejoined AA that autumn.

2024 sort of flew by, but it was full of recovery and opportunity.

2025 felt like a blink of an eye, but at the same time was the longest year ever. i'm glad it's over.

it's 2026 and i'm going to be looking for somewhere else to live, in the long run. i will fight to stay in the city.

i don't know what's coming next. i mean, i have some ideas, but ultimately, i can't even predict what happens tomorrow.

i'm going to take this a day at a time. i have classes this semester. i have work. i have YouTube to film and blogs to write. i have recovery meetings to attend and obligations to fulfill.

i "get to" do all these things. i have the privilege of rising to the occasion because i stay sober and keep my mental health a priority. nothing else matters if those two things go out the window.

look out, 2026. i have some new attitudes and goals.

nothing's going to stop me. keep watching.