Cry Me a Year

Notes Notes From a Hard Year

2025 was a less than ideal year for me. It started off with joyful expectations, particularly because I became a finalist this year, but everything crashed and burned a few days after my birthday.

My first relationship came to a sudden and painful end, and as insignificant as that might seem, it really marred the rest of my year. My heartbreak has silently lingered in the background of everything since April.

After coping relatively well for the first few months of the breakup, I finally broke down during my long holiday. I’d wake up crying and go to bed crying. I actually started to dread going to bed because I knew my issues would inevitably find their way into my dreams. I’d dream about awful, hurtful scenarios that were so vivid I’d wake up crying, convinced they had actually happened. I had a bit of a mental breakdown (I sometimes feel dramatic calling it that, but I genuinely felt broken).

While all this was going on, I had an internship to do, so I couldn’t even wallow. I’d tear up at work and have to pretend something got in my eyes. My supervisor would ask me pointedly if I was okay because I clearly wasn’t.

Then my mom fell sick and was admitted for a bit. We rarely get sick in my family, so whenever we are, it tends to be serious. All this was happening while my grandfather’s age started to show; he was getting sick more often and becoming less independent. He eventually had a fall and was confined to a wheelchair. When it rains it pours seemed to be this year's slogan.

One day, during a hospital visit, I sat beside her on a hospital bed and sobbed, crying and crying about a broken heart that I couldn’t seem to mend.

I managed to go no contact for a while, and I started to feel better, though the heartbreak was an inseparable entity at this point.

A Lagos trip later, and I was feeling hopeful. Even though I was dreading resuming and seeing him after months of not talking, I was lowkey excited, which is very unusual for this school hater. I’d finally made it to my final year, so I had graduation to look forward to.

Then, three or four days after I got to school, Grandpa died. And just like that, 2025 solidified its position as the year of Edina’s tears.

My year wasn’t all bad by any means. I just had to coexist with a very painful emotion. The almost physical pain that people describe feeling when heartbroken is very real. It’s all so cliché, but the stab I felt in my heart wasn’t imagined.

Despite everything, I’m still looking forward to 2026 very much. It’s going to be a major transitional year for me with graduation, NYSC, and my first partial big-girl job. I can’t wait to start being a proper adult (yes, I know all the hardships involved, but still).

I’m definitely carrying my heartbreak into 2026. I literally cried last night. But I guess that’s life.

We were asked to share appreciation posts in my book club last week. I couldn’t bring myself to type anything warm and fuzzy, not because I didn’t appreciate anything this year, but because my pain cast a shadow over so much I just didn’t know what to say.

But I have a bit to say now.

I appreciate my mum for giving me the space to cry and talk about “boy issues,” even while she was sitting in a hospital. I genuinely don’t know what would have happened if I had been forced to bottle everything up. Small things, like sending me data so I could doomscroll and distract myself, meant more than she probably knows.

I appreciate my book club, Shelf Made Women. When I started it, I was convinced no one would care. I sent out invites and woke up to almost 30 members. I eventually removed most of them 😭, but what remained was a small, intimate group of girls I could genuinely bond with over books. I hosted a cute picnic for us, and that day is now a soft, cherished memory. I put the club on an indefinite break because 2026 will be heavy for students in their final year, but I am proud I built it at all.

I appreciate the book reviews from the other book club I am part of. They are so enjoyable that I started pushing myself to finish books on time just to participate.

I appreciate my grandpa calling me his diamond a few weeks before he died, especially because he had never called me that before.

I appreciate being invited to a friend’s surprise not so surprise birthday party. I had told myself I wanted to get out more, so it felt like a small win.

I appreciate playing card games with the girls in my book club. Being in women only spaces can be deeply comforting.

I appreciate my friends and former roommates, Kefe and Queen, for being pests I have grown to love dearly. Gossiping, talking about relationships, and indulging in bad girl behaviour has been ridiculously fun. I appreciate Kefe for letting me cry endlessly and Queen for downloading Welcome to Derry for me after yet another breakdown.

I appreciate another friend for listening to my most desperate, heartbroken rants and crying with me. A tragic situation, but somehow very funny.

I appreciate the new connections I made through my book club.

I appreciate everyone who reads my messy Substack.

I am out of thoughts, so I will stop here.

This was a deeply sad year for me, and I do not expect that sadness to magically disappear when the clock strikes midnight. But I can still be hopeful. And for now, that feels like enough.

Happy new year everyone🍾!

I hope you all had a better year than mine.

Song of the day🎧:

Supermarket by Say Now perfectly encapsulates the absolute despair I felt this year lol.