When I think back on that year, it sure did. Not as bad as 2014; Nowhere near as bad. And maybe not that much at all. But I can’t quite remember. And this year has been more similar to 2014 than 2015… at least, in some aspects it has.

2015 was a year that came shortly after I started rebuilding and examining my life, and it came with a lot of wondering. Wondering about where my life was going, whether I should study or not, how much longer I could keep doing my job.

2015 came with plenty of good and bad times. I went to Japan, I went out a bit more, and I started getting more into writing about music. I hung with friends and I tried to enjoy my spare time. I cut that ex out of my life (in a rather immature and embarrassing way), as well as some other people and felt a lot of my anxiety lift. I was still studying.

I also spent a lot of it working and, despite doing it more than prior years, I felt I wasn’t doing much living. I went out, I did things. I went overseas for the first time! For my being poor and working in toxic environments, it was a desire that felt like an unattainable dream for the longest time, so having it happen was great. I got my redundancy but I dealt with the stress and concern surrounding the impending unemployment in the months leading up to the last day of employment. I lost friends, too, and I dealt with all the residual hurt.

I kept thinking a lot about my life, and for all the times that were exciting and active, there were an equal amount staring at a ceiling, waiting for something, anything to happen. Time spent in anguish, wondering if I was going anywhere.

Today I headed out for breakfast. I was well enough this morning so I figured it’d be good to do so. Just sit down and eat and read, then go for a walk and buy bread on the way back to the car. Ate at Duoly Rob, then went for my walk.

I went into Vinnies, found a shirt that fit and decided to buy it, then headed on to where I wanted to go, Blackwattle Bay. I can’t remember the last time I walked around it, but going there was the plan because it had been a while. Easy enough to head back up Glebe Point Road and buy bread on the way back to the car.

On the way I decided to head past where I used to live. Where Ewe and Anna were my neighbours. I know the places were renovated years ago, and even though the condition wasn’t the best when we lived on our street, our prior homes somehow looked worse.

I worked my way to Blackwattle Bay, took photos when I got there. Glebe had been mostly quiet which was strange. Even for a Sunday, it didn’t feel right. There was much more activity by the bay, however, which probably had something to do with how pleasant the weather seemed. I followed the path, saw plenty pf dogs and people enjoying the day.

I saw changes too. Back on Glebe Point Road, a place that Ewe and I knew as chickens plus became something else during our time in the suburb. Now it’s the office for a MP. At Blackwattle Bay, a small wharf that was just there is now a stop for a small ferry. There are, of course, plenty of other changes – Glebe was always going to change further – but these two stuck out to me. I’m not sure I ever felt I “belonged” in Glebe, and whether that was due to my own actions and lack thereof or not doesn’t matter at this point. Still, these changes make the place feel more distant to what it once was, which, ten years ago, was a community pushing out more of what made Glebe Glebe, anyway.

I reached where I was meant to turn and instead I kept on walking. I was considering crossing ANZAC Bridge by foot for the first time in years, but I also needed to use the bathroom. Kept walking, umming and ahhing about going the whole way, thought it might be too much, came across some toilets. Used them, decided to keep walking. I’d come this far, stuff it, haven’t crossed it on foot in years. Having a nice wander.

And wander I did. Sure, it was linear, but it felt aimless. It felt like walking just because. No goal beyond heading somewhere before heading back to the car. It was just nice. It was nice walking along Blackwattle Bay and remembering a time when I almost cycled into the water; it was nice seeing people around enjoying their day. Crossing ANZAC Bridge was plenty pleasant, and so was walking from there to where I parked, no detours. It wasn’t slow or meandering, but it felt it was and I didn’t feel stressed.

During my time living in Glebe I’d wander kind of aimlessly a bit. The destination was always back to home, but often my wandering felt aimless. Probably spent a good deal of that time trying to work things out, to be fair, but it was mainly just because. Sometimes Ewe would join me, and there were some times when it was both Ewe and Anna, but it was mostly just me, and that was fine. But even in that walking, there was a lot of hurt.

It has been more than ten years since 2015 started. It’s 2025, and I’m sitting here in this room, still dealing with getting dumped. I’m more functional than I was a few months ago, and in a way it still hurts, but a lot of that pain left really quickly. I can’t remember the last time I went walking for a few hours just because.

A few months ago whilst I was looking for photos that I wrote about here, I saw a lot of past and I think about now. I have a rough memory of how things were, and how it was a fucked up time of change. Of course things always change, but there was a good lot of it then, but it all seemed so still. Fairly certain I’ve said this before, but whilst there are times then that I miss, I don’t want to go back to them. I value what I have now, and trying to make what once was become what now is would mean I’d have to be fine with going through all the stress and pain, and the staring at the ceiling, waiting for something to happen. All that being fucked up and hurt whilst working on getting better. All that being intense without being tempered. I don’t need it, and neither do my friends. Things hurt now in a way that’s similar to back then, but I’m in a better place.