Author: Brandon Andreasen

2023 was the worst year of my life. Kind of unequivocally, honestly. I’ve had bad years. 2023 is the first to try to kill me, though. A couple times, in fact. Even as it spared me, it still found a way to take two very important people out of my life. Thousands of dollars in debt from medical bills. Depression. Anxiety attacks at the worst times. The shadow of this year will cast long over my shoulder far into 2024. While I can leave the year behind, some things will still follow.

I say that to say this: I’m a very lucky person. As I write this, I’m staring at the sun setting on the Pacific Ocean, midway through my second week in my home that I wish I could call home, Maui. In fact,as I stare out towards the vastness of the water, I see a spout from a Humpback Whale, like me clinging to the last hour of afternoon sunlight before the sun disappears over the horizon. I cannot even speak to the importance of this trip both mentally, but physically.

I tried writing this post a month ago. I know my scattered history of writing over the past year would lead this to be believed to be a lie. I really did, though. And when I did, naturally I suffered a low end mental breakdown in my attempt. Not even writers block. I couldn’t even pretend the ability wasn’t there. My brain, best known for sabotaging me numerous times in the past, was triggering a shutdown of my abilities to function as a human being. I suppose that makes sense. I was trying to write about how I nearly died earlier this year. I was breaking down because I realized I’d learned nothing from it.

Let’s rewind it back to the end of January. Now, I know i’ve never been seen as the picture of health. I’m more of a human Operation game of a person. Waking up in pain is nothing new to me. I have a bad knee, two bad ankles, a bad hip, a perpetually gout inflicted elbow, various dental maladies, OH, and I started randomly feeling like I was going to pass out this winter.