-a threshold moment from the Cryptid’s Den
It’s midnight.
And somehow, we’re still here.
Welcome to 2026- and back to The Crippled Cryptid, a Den that survived another year of flares, paperwork, late-night symptom spirals, and small, stubborn moments of joy that refused to be extinguished.
This is a threshold post.
A soft landing.
A line drawn in salt and hope.
I’m Sky.
Still a professional cryptid.
Still a very unwilling amateur cyborg.
Still living in a haunted meat suit that tried its best in 2025 and did not win.
Much of last year was spent in bed jail, watched over by Luna- my medical alert service dog, my constant, my quiet alarm system for a body that doesn’t always send useful memos. When I wasn’t there, I was held up by my partner, M&M, whose love remains the steadiest magic I know.
If you’re reading this at midnight, or later, or from the floor, or from a place where your body feels like a stranger- you’re not late. You didn’t miss the doorway. You made it.
2026 isn’t about reinvention.
It’s about continuation.
Showing up gently.
Telling the truth even when it’s inconvenient.
Letting survival count as progress.
Welcome to the new year.
Welcome back to the Den.
Tonight, we’re doing something intentional. Something ceremonial.
A brand-new year has arrived.
And we are gently, firmly, leaving the ghosts of 2025 where they belong.
2025 was a lot of things for me and good was not one of them. But that isn’t what we’re here to talk about today..
I live in a haunted meat suit with a highly questionable, deeply expired warranty.
Sadly, holidays don’t change that. Midnight doesn’t either.
But if anything could make it feel different, it’s this moment. Right here.
If the laws of the universe allowed it, I’d probably still be doing exactly what I’m doing now: drinking fancy sparkling grape juice from Trader Joe’s with M&M, making toasts to 2026, and hoping that 2025 stays where it belongs. In the past. Under the floorboards. With the door gently but decisively shut.
Returning readers: welcome home.
New cryptids: welcome to the Lunatic Café.
On tonight’s menu: 2026.
In this house, we celebrate a little differently.
This year, it is day 3 and 4 of a 6-day heart monitor that I absolutely cannot wait to take off on Sunday. Homemade pizza. The last ever episode of Stranger Things. Fancy sparkling grape juice from Trader Joe’s.
Snuggles with Luna. Episodes of See on Apple TV from Bed Jail™ with M&M. What could be better?
Maybe fondue. A brand-new tradition we’re starting for New Year’s Day, thanks to her Aunt Lise.
It is a BRAND. NEW. YEAR.
By the time you’re reading this, the ball has dropped.
People have kissed their loved ones.
Fireworks have bloomed and faded.
And we have, hopefully, loosened our grip on a year that asked far too much of far too many of us.
I don’t believe a calendar flip magically fixes pain, sickness, grief, or stress. But I do believe in thresholds. In choosing to step forward anyway. In naming what we’re done carrying.
I have hopes for 2026.
Quiet ones. Fragile ones. Stubborn ones.
Dreams I’m not quite ready to unpack all at once, but ones I’m excited to share with you as the year unfolds.
For now, this is simply a welcome.
A candle lit.
A door opened.
A reminder that you don’t have to walk into the new year alone.
We step into 2026 together, carrying what matters and leaving the rest to rest.
Love you. Now say it back.
-Sky
© The Crippled Cryptid
Disability, honesty, and a little chaos.
If you’re here, you belong here.
If today was heavy, thank you for carrying it with me.
If you’re reading from Bed Jail™, give your service dog an extra scritch for me.
🔗 https://linktr.ee/skylanarissa
There’s never pressure to donate – reading, sharing, or simply staying is more than enough.
But if you’d like to support my ongoing journey toward health, stability, and mobility, you can do so here:
💜 https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-skys-journey-to-health-and-mobility
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