The premise is simple; each year you mentally jot down a list of things you’d like to get done by the end of the year, but you forget about them a few months down the line, only for the memory to return in December with a feeling in your gut that describes in vivid detail how much of a failure you are.
Or maybe you’re not me.
2021 still doesn’t feel like a real year to me, just a long and tiring add-on to the disaster that was 2020. This year saw me refine my boundaries, stabilise my finances and finally get over my ex. But it also had me losing friendships that meant a lot to me, retweeting missing person posters, crying along with strangers on the internet as they mourned dead family members, failing school and struggling to get out of bed every day.