This has been, without a doubt, the weirdest and most up-and-down year of my life. I feel like I’ve been just existing in this state of limbo, and am just now coming out of the fog.
It’s hard to explain.
Suffice to say I’ve been trippin’. In (almost) every imaginable way.
I’ve taken some literal trips … Of the traveling sort as well as the fall-on-my-face variety (par for the course in my life). Metaphorically, it’s been a year of the fall-on-my-face-and-debate-getting-up-again kind of trip.
I can look back and think of a lot of good memories that have been made, as well as a lot of things I would rather forget. And then I spent a good part of the year marginally employed, which is something I haven’t endured since I started working at 16.
Cue the major identity crisis. Holy crap, I didn’t realize how much of “me” I had riding on my work/career.
So then there was the anxiety, the ignored phone calls, the bedridden days, and the deep depression that can bury you. Or me. I couldn’t grieve, couldn’t celebrate, couldn’t let anything in without letting everything in.
And then one not so very special day, it was like I woke up again. Very strange. The darkness that took months or maybe even years to build and take over was gone, just like that.
I felt like I had something to live for again, even though my external circumstances hadn’t really changed. Suddenly my motivation and focus and passion came back, like old friends that had just taken a long vacation but were arriving home to stay.
Maybe my husband has been slipping happy pills into my morning coffee … If that’s the case, then let the next trip begin.