The New Year

Devonnie Black
Defining Devonnie
Published in
3 min readJan 29, 2017

I’ve struggled with this post.

The first post of the new year. My timelines and inboxes were filled with other bloggers and creators tossing themselves into 2017. Even most of my friends found themselves starting the new year with heartbreak but with a will to make this the best year yet. I saw it in short instagram blurbs and Facebook statuses. I saw it in their snapchat and insta stories. People were in the middle of all this pain and horror but were somehow finding strength to see tomorrow in a way that I was incapable of at that time. No glitter filled images capturing the spirit of me stepping into the new year. No resolutions. No 140 characters about how lit my year would be. 2017 did not start well for me. Aside from the unbelievable actions of our government and general community hysteria, the beginning of this fresh new year found me curled up in a fetal position, in bed for days, ugly crying between fitful bouts of sleep. This was not my finest moment.

I smelled. I knew I smelled from laying in bed for two days but that didn’t motivate me to shower. I called out of work. I cried. I punished my bladder by evading release. I wanted to lay and sulk and cry and wallow in my sadness. My hair became dry and matted because I wouldn’t tie it down or do anything to it. My apartment was in disarray and the dishes from days prior were starting to pile up. I needed help and deep down wanted to ask for it but was so ashamed of myself. I couldn’t pull myself up. I couldn’t shake the sadness and self-pity.

I was saved by three people. None of them, myself.

Daddy — My first call. I could hear the pain in your voice as you listened to my own. I could hear your breath catch when I randomly burst into a fit of gasps and tears. Blubbering like a baby. I could feel your heart break for me struggling. I could also feel it in the deepest part of me when you told me you love me and reminded me of who I am and who I still have yet to be.

Melissa — You sat with me on the floor of my apartment for hours that felt like minutes as I cried, and told me stories to make me laugh. You brought groceries, a cheesecake and some face masks so that I could eat and feel pretty. You will never know what this meant to me.

Ryan — The greatest boyfriend. You flew here and surprised me immediately after realizing that I wasn’t okay. I can’t explain what it felt like seeing you sitting there when I got out of work, already thinking about the cry I would have after the day. If ever there was a time to believe in magic, you showing up at the most perfect time was it.

Even now, as I type this. It’s still there. I can feel the sadness hug my thoughts like a close friend. Coaxing me into giving up and laying still. I’ll probably go through this again. I am so thankful for the people who directly pulled me from that space and evermore thankful for all the others who would have done so in a heartbeat had they known.

I felt it would be disingenious for me to jump back into content without acknowledging what’s been going on.

Besides, I’m still defining. And this is all part of the journey.

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