Reluctant Revelers! Graham here.

I have a confession for the group. I still haven’t decided if I’m going out tonight.

I mean, I’ve made elaborate plans that it would be particularly tricky to get out of. Bodie even has a dogsitter. But it still feels very hypothetical, y’know?

A New Year’s party usually involves planning and decision-making weeks if not months in advance. For me, this means it also involves months of pre-worrying and picturing in my head - how it might be fun, how it might be awful.

For much of December, there’s a little part of my brain devoted solely to playing out this internal court case.

The Prosecution: You’re a nonsense person who can’t enjoy parties.

The Defense: Ouch! Is he allowed to say that??

Internal Judge: I’ll allow it.

The stress of not-deciding

As a kind of defense mechanism against the stress of such things, I don’t commit to New Year’s plans until the last possible minute. This can be comforting - I have an out! - but it can also just add to the sense of uncertainty.

This year, I’ve all but decided that I am in fact going to go to my friend’s annual party in the bush. He’s been trying to get me there for three years in a row, and in the end I wanted to reward his admirable persistence. Plus, after two very pleasant New Year’s Eves alone on the couch with Bodie, I want to push myself again.

And besides, after all this sunk cost of the past few months of deliberating, I want something to show for it!

Judging yourself for how hard this decision is

But it’s never quite that simple is it?

If it’s not enough that you spend so much time worrying about whether or not to leave the house, chances are you double down on that by judging yourself for all that worrying.

This is a classic example of a ‘secondary emotion’: an emotion about an emotion.

The primary emotion is simple enough. In my case, it’s often fear:

I feel scared when I think about this party. What if I go, and I have a terrible time?

This then brings up a secondary emotion, about that primary emotion. I feel ashamed of that fear:

Other people don’t find this so hard. Why am I like this??

So often it’s the secondary emotions that stick around and wreak the most havoc on our internal feelscape.

Two not-so-helpful beliefs

The good news is that you have a little more control over secondary emotions than primary ones.

There are two things going on here, I think. Two not-so-helpful beliefs that are fueling that shame and self-judgement.

Not-so-helpful belief #1: It’s not normal to worry this much about silly little decisions. I shouldn’t be this worried.

Not-so-helpful belief #2: If I’m this worried before the party even starts, I’m bound to be a buzzkill when I get there.

Like most not-so-helpful beliefs, there’s a small kernel of truth in each of these. You almost definitely have friends who are way more amped about New Year’s than you are. And we’ve all been at parties where we’re so in our heads we forget to have a good time.

These beliefs are self-fulfilling

But here’s the thing. While each of these not-so-helpful beliefs is only partially true, when we get sucked in and believe them whole-heartedly, we often make them wholly true.  

If I believe that it’s not normal to worry so much about a party, I start to worry about how much I’m worrying. And then I worry about how much I’m worrying about how much I’m worrying. You know where that goes.

If I believe that all this worry means I’ll be a buzzkill at the party, I will be really in my head come party time, and at the very least, I’ll be a bit of buzzkill for myself.

Two slightly more helpful beliefs

Slightly more helpful belief #1: There is nothing inherently bad about worrying this much. Even if it’s really unpleasant. This is how some of us do it.

Slightly more helpful belief #2: I can be really worried and still have an ok time.

The Stoic Prayer for New Year’s Eve

But how do you believe new beliefs? How do you get these off the page and into your head?

Remember the Stoics? They’re like the Ancient Greek equivalent of the Buddhists, but with more toga parties.

A big thing for the Stoics is paying attention to your expectations. It’s your expectations that set your beliefs, but it’s much easier to manage your immediate expectations than it is to install a whole new belief system overnight.

So, today of all days, Honor and I offer you... a Stoic Prayer for New Year’s Eve. Recite it as you get ready, or as you pace the block outside the place you’re going. Or review it in the bathroom once you’re finally inside.

Ahem...

I expect to see people seemingly having the best possible time all around me. (I expect that I won’t necessarily feel the same.)

I expect to feel awkward, disconnected, and at times like I’m not in on the joke.

I expect to wander off on my own at least once, to stare into the middle distance and wonder ‘what am I doing here?’, before heading back inside and hoping no one asks ‘where’d you go???’

I expect to feel inauthentic at times - if I’m lucky, interlaced with a few precious moments of actually un-self-consciously expressing and enjoying myself. (Just one or two moments will do.)

And when I’m leaving the party (whether I make it to midnight or not) I expect to feel slightly unsatisfied, underwhelmed, but also to know I did the scary thing, and I survived.

Still not sure what you’re doing?

Of course, as I would have told you last year from the comfort of my couch, there’s nothing wrong with staying in. Some of my friends are using tonight to do some quiet yearly reflection, and there’s nothing like the smugness of not being hungover on New Year’s Day.

If you need a little more help deciding if you're in or out tonight, here’s my guide to checking in with yourself, to ask ‘should I push myself or take it easy?’

And if you are staying in, some further reading...

If you are staying in (or just want some big feels encouragement as you hide for 5 minutes in the bathroom tonight) here’s an article I wrote for ABC Life about how to carve out some reflection time before life gets back into full swing. It’s for people who hate new year’s resolutions.

“New Year's resolutions have a proud history of making us all feel guilty. Whether it's guilt about the bad habits we've had this year and want to change, or guilt about all those optimistic resolutions from last year that we abandoned by February.

On top of this, New Year's resolutions are so focused on 'doing': What will I do differently next year? And at this time of year, when I feel like I'm only just surviving all the 'doing' in my life, that's not particularly enticing.”

You can find some of our best Big Feels articles from the past year over here.

And since it’s a special occasion, we’re resurrecting the all-you-can-eat newsletter buffet. Woop! Read every issue ever here.

Bonus points for noticing…

• Every time I’ve used the same picture of Bodie again and again (that boy will not sit still for photos)

• How these things just got longer and longer the more issues I wrote lol

• Honor’s issues: Issue 8 and Issue 11 (which became the basis for ep1 of No Feeling Is Final). Plus she’s across many more through her tireless copy-edits, offering of better punchlines, and also my shameless and consistent stealing of her style from day one.

• This year’s other brilliant guest issues: from Gareth Edwards and Sarah Firth.

Become a card-carrying member

And if our words help you feel less alone in your brain, if something we’ve written or recorded this year made you think ‘hey maybe I’m *not* a hopeless case’, and if that’s something you need in your life... consider throwing a few bucks our way by signing up to be a card-carrying Big Feels Club member.

You’ll even get a cool thing, sent right to your door.

(For those of y'all already signed up, we’ll be sending out your membership card next week. They just arrived at our place and they look *amazing*)

It’s been a big year. You made it. Shit yeah.