Normally, by this time of the year, I am more than ready to welcome the new year. I love the idea of a fresh start and a collective new beginning for the entire world, and I am giddy with excitement, as I dream new dreams, set new goals, and make new plans. My fear of the unknown gives way to a quiet contentment that the limitless possibilities that await me are well within my eager reach. That’s what normally transpires in the waning days of the calendar year, but there has been nothing normal about this past year at all.
The new year was only days old when the first of many losses occurred, and I had no idea what the upcoming year held for my family and friends and for me. It’s probably better that I didn’t know, because I may have spent the entire year hiding under my bed. So, while many people are recounting the highlights of the past year in cheery Christmas letters or taking happy strolls down memory lane this holiday season, I am still digging my way out from the emotional, physical and spiritual carnage that was my 2015. While there were bright spots along the way, trust me that I am not exaggerating in the least bit when I say that this was the worst year of my life. I have no desire to gloss over the events and emotions of the past twelve months, nor do I wish to provide a detailed account of each loss and challenge. No, I don’t want to look to the past, but at the present moment, I am not sure what I am looking forward to in the future.
I understand that things could have been worse, so, please, refrain from sharing that, or any other trite observation, for that matter, and I will do the same. In fact, every time I hear that things could be worse, my anxiety amps up, as I begin to fear that perhaps the new year will be the “worse” that people keep referencing. No matter how many times I have told myself that once this year ends, things will get better, I am struggling to believe that. For the first time in my life, I am not fully embracing the promise of a new year. It feels like 2015 is getting the last laugh.
I am in survival mode when I desperately want to be in thriving mode, but I feel depleted and defeated. I console myself with the fact that I have faced and overcome other setbacks and losses, but that’s part of the problem. I am weary of this pattern. Again, I understand all too well that life is messy, change in inevitable, and that there is much to be grateful for, and I also understand that everyone has their breaking point. I am at mine.
While I am ready for this year to come an end, I look to the next year with trepidation, when I really want to be happily preparing for its arrival. My final wish of the year is that the hopes and dreams that were lost this past year can be reimagined and fulfilled in the days and weeks ahead. With ten days to go in this current year, anything can happen, and I am holding out a bit of hope that I will create a way to end this year on a much-needed positive note. Stay tuned.
That’s another story . . .
Categories: That's Another Story