You’re still in bed at ten, And work began at eight.

if 2020 had a theme song it would definitely be “I’ll be there for you”.

Think about it, did anyone tell you life was gonna be this way? I mean. Somebody should have said something.

I surely did not picture this year the way it unraveled.

(I am writing this in November, so in case anything is yet to happen in December, consider me officially devastated with no way back to my senses.)

Ok, I know. I should also discuss the positive aspects of working from home, saying no to handshakes (hello my OCD mates), not having to come up with excuses to get out of seeing your friend who’s not really a close friend but just this nice person you’ve met and you’re now unsure how to categorize your friendship together because you haven’t made up your mind on how you feel about them.

But I’m not here to spread positivity so scroll away cause you’re not getting any of it today.

I mean it, damn it. I just want to point out all the horrible things I went through and how they affected me because I need to let it out – my psychologist told me to do something I enjoy for 30 minutes a day, and this is one of those things.

Alright then!

I haven’t written anything on my blog since July and let me tell you something: A LOT HAS HAPPENED SINCE THEN.

I lost my mind, then came back to my senses, lost it again…. you get the point.

So my recap of 2020 is:

I lost my job at, cried for a few days, landed another job within a week, celebrated for a few days. Corona peaked before it got better during summer which gave me just a small window of opportunity to happiness, and then I got back to lockdown in no time. I waited for 6 months to pass my probation period at work and I cannot begin to describe how nervous I was, waiting to know if I will make it.

Spoiler alert: I did.

Meanwhile, my hypochondria skyrocketed and still is, so if you think a simple cough is not a big deal, I think the opposite.

I self diagnosed a thousand times, googled, went to the doctor, and googled again.

I am currently on my “I have a stomach tumor” level of hypochondria, I’ll let you know when I come up with another disease that I shall dramatically die from.

I mean I wish these thoughts would disappear one day. We will all die anyway, right? But when these thoughts first appear, I get curious. I wonder. I investigate. I compare. I analyze. Finally, I decide to misdiagnose my simple skin rash and start writing my goodbye letter to friends and family and whoever cares enough to read what I have to say.

Now, my question is the following: can you imagine being a hypochondriac during COVID-19?


So yes, I am not at my best one would say.

It got lonely.

Not alone, lonely.

It has been one year since I last saw my parents and no, it wasn’t possible to book a ticket to go see them. Believe me I tried.

And so I developed something called a psychological hiccup!

Have you ever seen someone hiccuping on average 25 times a day? Now you can say you know someone who does.

I have to learn to breathe properly now, be consistent with my running and yoga, and not skip meditation.

I am not amused by this but I am intrigued by the way the human body reacts under stress.

Anyway, there’s still one month left of this year, one more chance to have a normal month in 2020, and I want to do my best to be able to say I tried.

I tried to be happy.

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