I think it’s fair to say that this year is one I’ll be happy to see behind me. Having said that, it is not the worst year of my life. That distinction would go to 2018, most of which I spent helping to care for my terminally ill father. The one common factor would be anxiety and depression, but at least this year I’ve had time and space to recuperate and distract myself.
I’m pleased to say that I’m ending this year a lot healthier, both mentally and physically, than I started it. There was a hiatus of a few months during the first lockdown here in the UK, but overall, I’ve managed to maintain a good daily exercise routine. I’ve also tried to pause and reflect, and develop techniques to handle overthinking and moments of darkness.
I’ve lost several kilos in weight and shed all the flab that I still had on me. For the first time in a long while, I’m happy with how my body looks in the mirror. I’ve even gone down a trouser size, and bought several new pairs to celebrate.
Financially, I’m doing okay, thanks to some reorganization of where I was keeping my money. My pension pot took a hit at the start of the year, but has since recovered. The one thing I’ll need to tackle next year is budgeting, and bringing down my credit card debt. Thanks to 0% balance transfers, I’ve got that under control for now, but I’d like to clear it all soon to give myself some headroom in the event I need to make any major purchases.
I’m cautiously optimistic about the route out of the Covid-19 pandemic, now that vaccines have been approved and are being distributed. Of course, it would be even better if we had a competent government here. I remain pessimistic about what will happen once the Brexit transition period ends, and I feel great sadness about the economic and cultural barriers that are going to arise between us and the rest of Europe.
I wish a Happy New Year to all of you who’ve stopped by to read and/or comment on my posts in 2020.