Dear Aloaye

If I didn’t know better, I would have said I have been tired since the first of January. But that’s the thing --do I know better?

Dear Aloaye,

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” When Dickens wrote those words, he could have been describing the year I am writing from. What a year, what a run.

There is so much to say, so much, too much. If I didn’t know better, I would have said I have been tired since the first of January. But that’s the thing -- do I know better? This year has tested me in ways I didn’t think possible, punishing and rewarding me in equal measure. So many delirious highs, so many excruciating lows, so many “wetin be this one like this?” moments.

For the greater part of the last three years, the five-pound note in my wallet has served as a talisman. I take the note everywhere, not for its monetary value as much as the motivational effect of the lines from Churchill’s World War II speech inscribed on the note. “I have nothing to give but blood, sweat, tears, and toil.” This year has demanded everything and then some more.

In Hamilton, a character reflects: “We gonna fly a lot of flags half-mast.” This year, a lot of non-literal flags have been flown half-mast. People come with loads of baggage, preferences, choices, backgrounds, and sometimes there’s only so much you can put up with. Adulting comes with its share of funerals, literal and otherwise. The latter is harder, leaving you staring at the charred remains of interactions, wondering what could have been done differently.

If there’s one thing I have learnt in the last decade, it is that at the end of the day, I am not Wolverine and while I may have embraced the bad habit of making emotion-laden decisions look easy, these things have taken a toll on me. I have learned to lose. On some days, everything matters. On others, nothing matters. To paraphrase Thanos, “The year exacts a hefty toll.”

This year has felt like a cocktail prepared by rival bartenders with different palates. The days have been equal parts sweet and revolting. My promotion came with several wedges of imposter syndrome, doubts, and questions about me meriting the additional alphabets in my email signatures. And yet, here I am, taking it all in, one day at a time.

In one of the more memorable scenes from Suits, Harvey Specter is at his wits’ end and smashes a glass against a wall in anger. Many days have felt like an infinite loop of that scene. Smash glass, yell into the abyss, glass is repaired, do it all again, again, and again. So many deeply frustrating moments.

About a week ago, a conversation made me realise I quit alcohol six years ago. With the benefit of hindsight, that has been a great decision. If any year came with the tendency to develop a drinking problem, it would be this one. Two days ago, I was sitting on the floor of my bedroom drinking directly from the bottle of non-alcoholic wine I got an hour before I ditched the glass for the bottle. The existence of non-alcoholic wine is such an irony.

If I said the truth and nothing else, the year has been quite good. God has carried me. Prayers brought me so far. This has been a good year. I had a bunch of speaking engagements for work. I got promoted. I changed churches and grew in a lot of ways. The kids are alright.

I’m in a half-great space mentally. Some of the work I have put in has paid off. When it’s all said and done, the year was one for taking it all in and having a new perception of things. I like to think my struggles are really just growth pangs, teething problems. I’ll get better. Everything will be fine.

For the greater part of my life as an adult, I have done a lot of random things. “Do I look like a guy with a plan?” I’m going into the new year with a small plan. If I have done this much without a defined plan, I want to see what happens, when I make a plan. 10x? 50x? Let’s see.

The only thing I genuinely regret is the lingering anhedonia- an inability to derive pleasure from the events and activities in my life. The list of things I view as normal and struggle to derive pleasure from grows by the year. I was on TV for work recently and my colleagues and friends were more excited than I was. For me, it felt like another day in the trenches. I want to live in and cherish these moments, these milestones.

Ultimately, I’m grateful for it all, the highs, the lows, the people, family, my partner, friends, the friends that became family. I heard such kind words on my birthday. Maybe my bad character isn’t so bad.

Next year, I want to live fully- to feel, genuinely enjoy moments without dreading loss, live with more joy and less anxiety. To live recklessly, with clearer boundaries but less caution. I know that the last sentence probably makes less sense than non-alcoholic wine. But beer with me. Get it?

I really just want a year so great that if anyone asks me what my secret is, I’ll say: “You wan gatekeep who sabi jump fence?” What does that even mean? You’ll find out soon enough.

See you soon. Until then, o medo me fascina; I hope you live with as little fear as I plan to.

You.