Be gone, 2015. I’m so done with you.
Here is a month-by-month year in review:
What a fucking year. I told my friend yesterday that it feels like I have 30 balls of yarn in my brain, all tangled up in a huge mess. I don’t know where to begin the untangling. I want to burn the whole damn thing, but I can’t.
Things I told myself repeatedly this year:
- Hold on
- Sink or swim
- Don’t think about it
- Be grateful
- Crash and burn
- You’re enough
- You’re not enough
- When will it get easier?
2015 was tough. It really tested my limits, pushed and stretched me to levels I didn’t think possible. “But you got through it and you’re stronger because of it!” Well, I feel pretty beat up at the end of it all.
Of course, we learn from all struggles. Silver lining, I guess. So what did I learn this year? I learned what it means to be a caregiver. I learned I only know how to sprint, and don’t know a thing about running a marathon. I learned what it feels like to know how unbelievably lucky and privileged I am, and yet feel so little joy, leaving me feeling embarrassed and guilty to admit the disparity to the world. I learned about death and grief. I learned how painfully lonely and isolated I could feel. I learned how stress can literally ruin one’s mind, body, and soul. I learned no matter the amount of money you make, the credentials you hold, your health rules everything. I mean, everything. I learned about depression, self-love and hatred. I learned what it feels like when you have absolutely nothing to look forward to, and the sense of emptiness and panic that follow after realizing… I have absolutely nothing to look forward to. I learned to be vulnerable. I learned to ask for help. I learned to cherish every moment I get to spend with people I love, people who give a shit about me. I learned there are people who will be there for you without any expectations – what a miraculous thing that is. I learned I can’t do it all, and when something’s got to give, it damn sure should not be me.
I lost myself this year.
As I enter the new year, I feel more cautious than excited. 2016 is going to be the year of rebuilding. Slowly but surely, I will pick up pieces of myself and recreate parts of me that I used to love. Maybe I’ll be more kind to myself. Maybe I’ll feel more whole.
I’m overwhelmed with gratitude for all the support and patience I received this year. And I feel so guilty for not having been able to do the same. I’ve been so focused and isolated in my own chaos, I felt I had no strength left in me to give, to care, to listen. I hope to change this in 2016.
No list of resolutions this year, but things I want to achieve – balance, self-love, and happiness – seem more daunting than any other year.
5 hours until I kiss 2015 good-fucking-bye.