At the end of the month we’ll hear shouts of “Happy New Year!” On that day, I’ll have another year on this earth officially under my belt. Another year older, another year wiser, another year of struggle and change behind me. Happy birthday to me, you survived. Sometimes I wonder how.  This last year was another test (but really, aren’t they all?) Panic disorder had me swapping to the passenger seat of my own car. Schizoaffective disorder introduced me to new individuals and voices. And depression had me thinking of actions that I’ve managed to resist for roughly seven years. Don’t worry, I’ve kept up my streak, but it was…