When I was in junior high and high school, before school started every year and on New Years Day I would sit down and create a list of goals I had for the upcoming year. The goals varied from “kiss a boy” to “get straight As” to “get over you-know-who.” While I do consistently make goals lists for the new year, and sometimes summer project lists, I haven’t done a school year list for ten years or so.

And, since it’s officially December (how!?), I won’t be doing one now. However,  I did decide to make a list of goals for 29, because, well why the fuck not?

1.) Hit that fucking goal weight.

At the risk of being trite and cliché, I really want to get this goal accomplished. I’ve been on Weight Watchers on and off for the past three years, and while I do get discouraged, I really think it’s the most effective for me particularly. As of now…I have like….44.4 pounds. I’ve been doing Beachbody on Demand since August too, which actually has helped with some of the mental health struggles. Which brings me to…

2.) Manage my mental health.

This is such a struggle for me again. I just switched my meds, and while my anxiety had been under control, the switch or PMS, or not working out the past week, has made my anxiety spike, while my depression has declined…so….I’m hoping for balance. More good days than bad. Realistically, I don’t think being off meds will happen this year, but I would like some sort of progress.

3.) Boundaries.

I want to really set boundaries this year. With work, family, friends, my time. I want to learn to say no to things I don’t want to do, or that will stress me out. To stop volunteering for things just because no one else is willing to step up. And focus on spending my time doing things I actually want to do.  In the past two months, I’ve had one weekend at home, and it honestly stresses me the fuck out. I’m over constantly traveling to visit people who rarely, if ever, make an effort to come to us. And I’ve allowed it to happen, so it’s on me, but like. Boundaries, man. I gotta do it.

So yeah, that’s it. Three things. Two of which aren’t actually tangible and are only measured by my own feelings on them. But I need something to give. Twenty-eight was fucking hard. It was exhausting, overwhelming, and too much. I need my life to change, and realistically, that won’t happen if I don’t make an effort to change it.


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