2014 nearly killed me. That year tested me like I’d never been tested. There was no way 2015 could do worse. It just wasn’t possible. It tried but ultimately I beat it by fighting back.
2015 was the productive year if it had any theme. This was the year I finished my memoir or at least a draft for others to edit. Unworthy, my great white whale, exists in three drafts. It’s even pretty good I think. The Film Room stepped up to weekly production. We’ve got a column relaunching and I’m on top of that. Arkansas Cinema History started this year and grows daily.
Then of course there’s the cub. 2016 belongs to my cub. I’ll cover them next year.
This was a year of chaos albeit less upsetting than last year. Nobody died in 2015 thankfully. Still there was a move. There were tons of weather events. Emergencies happened all the same.
I also had a rather intense battle with anxiety and depression. Less a new battle than the eternal one facing a wall. I finally took the initiative and entered therapy. I’m optimistic. I won’t lose this war.
There has been flux in my social life as some have come and gone. I mourn their absence. Still others have arrived and others remain present. I cherish them. I wish for a measure of stability but I don’t dream of the impossible.
My marriage only strengthened. I know I have a true partner. I love her. I cannot wait for the next phase of our lives.
Ultimately this year will be remembered for what I left in it. I left signs I was here. I made a dent. I reemerged as a writer. I was here.