Let's put 2025 in the rear view

I've been on the internet for a long time. I developed certain habits over that time, as I and the internet grew up together. We were BFFs, doing everything together.

I was an ICQ user. I have people in my phone that I've known since I was 12 years old, dicking around on the internet, waiting for the computer to go "uh oh!" and alert me to a new IM.

I was an early adopter of all of the major pockets of the internet, all the major platforms, and developed many friendships and other bonds with people because we happened upon each others photos in the same city, we liked the same coffee shop, or just because we seemed to have the same general vibe. Hashtags brought us together. We exchanged contact and met in different cities. I met librarians, photographers, people who were fascinating and outside of my limited, daily physical orbit.

The internet used to be super cool.

And now I really can't stand it. Like, at all.

The internet used to help me feel connected to people I didn't get to see often, the way maybe a postcard or a phone call used to connect people who moved away. Now, I go on the platforms and I feel so very disconnected from everyone. I see stranger's content about their politics, I read about how streaming your entire day is the new "cool thing," and I just get exhausted.

In 2025, I had to admit I had outgrown some old behaviors, some old patterns, some old people. I deleted my Instagram after a bad fight with a friend, even though it meant saying goodbye to almost 15 years of photos and messages and connections and proof that I existed. I deleted all the accounts I could locate across the web, small and large accounts, things that had been with me for 10+ years. I would have deleted my Facebook if it wasn't part of my volunteering to post on social media.

Do I feel free? No. I feel like I'm missing out. All the time.

Do I feel better? No. I feel like I'm worse in some ways.

Let's move on. Sort of.

All of this ranting is because I thought about my New Year's tradition of posting about the year in review. I would post a collection of photos from the year, a narrative reflection, and move on.

But this year was terrible. Terrible on an epic scale. Globally, nationally, locally. Micro, macro. It all sucked.

Did some good things happen? Yes. Of course they did. No thing is ever all good or all bad. It's a mixed up jumble of happy moments and sad moments and also just moments of existing and getting through and doing chores.

Even though there were things to celebrate, all I could think about were the hard things. The things that still make me sad. I miss my dog, my friends, my family, everything that 2025 took from me and I can't get back.

And, goddamnit, I miss the internet.

But I miss my internet. the internet of old. Livejournal, and ICQ, and AIM, and Flickr, and MySpace, and the internet free of an algorithm that determined who was popular and who wasn't. An internet that wasn't just rehashing the same skits over and over with different faces like the most absurdist fractal pattern you've ever seen.

Which, frankly, is why I started this blog. To feel connected to something that the world lost a very long time ago. Will anyone ever see these? Maybe. Maybe not. That's okay.

I'll still be here, typing at the void.

So what did happen in 2025?

Dan got promoted. I finished my leadership program. I had a lot of therapy. I grew, gained an appreciation of myself I lacked previously, chilled out a lot, and managed myself through many mental and physical health slip-ups or regressions.

According to eBird, I added 55 new birds to my life list.

My favorite? All of them.

But the Glossy Ibis was hard won, and a really wonderful find. What a beautiful dinosaur.