A Five Year Roller-Coaster...

It's the last Long Ramble of 2023! Well done for making it this far. Whether you've been charting the year in Long Rambles or alternative units of measurement, it all adds to the reflective nature of this time of year, doesn't it? It could be the last Long Ramble, the last month, the last week before Christmas, or the last of all sorts of things. Either way, the final days of the year tend to prompt retrospection and contemplation.

For me, that sense of reflection is amplified times five. Why? Well, we're coming to the end of my five year diary. Had you been keeping count? A mate bought it for my 40th, so since January 2019 before turning out the light, I've opened the diary, looked at the question at the top of the page, and given it a good think before answering. It's been excellent fun. Some questions posed are simple and factually based. 'What are you reading right now?' is one example. (In 2019, I was reading Michelle Obama's, Becoming. In 2020, Ex Pats by Chris Pavone. In 2021, Caste by Isabel Wilkerson. In 2022, And Away by Bob Mortimer. And in 2023, Sali Huhges', Everything is Washable.')  Questions like that are the easiest to answer. It takes a second to record and you can be snoring, moments later.

Other questions take more effort. 'Write down something that inspired you today.' That's the question from 10th January and it takes a bit more thought. Somedays, nothing will have inspired me. Other times, I'll have got inspiration from every little thing. My diary tells me that in 2019 the thing that inspired me was, 'A woman in the BBC Question Time audience had a really eloquent view on why she doesn't feel sorry for T. May.' Fair play. Subsequent years chart my ego kicking in. In 2022 I said, 'I began to reread Leeza McAuliffe and it's great!' If you can't let your buoyant self-esteem fly free in your diary, where the hell can you? 

Of course, the period of time from January 2019 until today, has seen some shit. It neatly straddles the world's awareness of Covid 19. On the 22nd March, the question was, 'Jot down a news story from today'. My answers - that would have been given only the briefest consideration at the time - are an honest-to God historical source. In 2019 I answered with, 'Ha! Fucking Brexit! And Robert Mueller has submitted his report to Trump.' In 2020, it was, 'McDonalds has closed due to Covid 19. People told not to go out unless it's urgent (and as long as not vulnerable) and stay 2m away.' In 2021, I recorded that, 'B. Johnson talking shite about COVID again. N. Sturgeon not guilty of misleading parliament. In 2022, I wrote, 'Kyiv still being bombed and Mariupol decimated. Nazanin Zagari Radliffe is home.' Finally this year I noted, 'Boris Johnson grilled by Partygate committee for 4 hours.' What a triggering snapshot of five years of rolling news. It almost makes me want to retreat under the covers. 

Hands down, my favourite page.
That's because amidst some 
sensible, considered thoughts 
about my favourite literary 
character, in 2021 was clearly 
bladdered AF. 

For those that can't decipher 
Pissed Nicky's writing, it says, 
'Tonight England lost to
on Italy penalties. My Eng Lit
character would be
Bassanio from the Merchant
of Venice.'

Pandemics and politics aside, the diary has also charted events more specific to me. The rise in my bad mood and body temperature, for example, as the peri menopause kicked in. It's seen the birth of two of the four of my gang of nieces and nephs. There have been four weddings - my brother and sister-in-law, plus three old friends. It's also given me ample opportunity to answer a question as innocuous as, 'What made you smile today?' with, 'Not Boris Johnson.' The politics has seeped through, regardless of question. The last five years have been quite the ride. 

But I think the best thing about a five year diary, (as opposed to a yearly one) is that you see progress so easily. In 2019, the question, 'If you could have a superpower just for today, what would it be?' was answered with, 'To not have a sore knee.' Every subsequent year on that day, I've looked back and thought, 'Ahhhh, remember when I had a sore knee. How fab that I don't have a sore knee anymore.' (Vitamin D, folks. It's a cure-all!) Likewise, the change from pre-HRT and post-HRT in 2021-22 has lifted the mood on every entry since. When I've had a bad day, or a felt a bit meh, looking back at how shit I felt in previous years, is a real boost.

So, the diary's coming to an end and I feel a bit sad. There's just a couple of weeks left to record. With all the ups and downs that the past five years have seen, it's been my one constant. (A bit melodramatic, but you get my drift.) What am I going to do when it's over? How will I know how far I've come if I'm not inadvertently writing it down each night? How will I chart political turmoil without my trusty bedtime companion? Well stop your worrying. A couple of birthdays ago, another friend bought me another five year diary. It's as if my mates know me really well. It's been kept on ice, ready and waiting, for January 1st 2024. The time is nigh.

Honestly, even if I didn't have it waiting for me, I'd be buying myself another one. Self-reflection is so useful. It helps form your inner voice, it brings clarity to the swirling fog of ideas, fears, dreams, and opinions. It sorts out your head, even when it feels like it's doing anything but. My experience of writing one or two lines a night, has been as useful as writing daily essays. I might not write pages anymore (I was far more waffly during the teenage diary years) but one line's reflection on a nightly basis has become an essential part of my routine. So now we're approaching the official handover protocol. If you listen carefully, at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve you might hear me cry, 'The Diary is dead! Long live the Diary!'

Have a lovely week, folks.