Gone. This word sums up my 2016. I was driving home from my father’s house after celebrating with his family and my children and I spent about an hour and a half reflecting on what it meant. Guilt and shame poured over me as I realized that even while I look at these two very beautiful miracles in my back seat, one given to me just three months prior, they cannot extinguish the pain and sadness that I still harbor from last year.
I have been tried before. I have come up against stronger adversaries that took far more than I have ever had to part with since. But coming into 2017 I still cannot find the air to breathe; a footing to stand back up. I was knocked down and still lack the strength to recover.
I am gone. Lost. I struggle against my own thoughts that were once so easily dismissed. Events took place in 2016 that only gave face to my doubts and fears. All the thoughts that I had questioning myself and my worth were suddenly made real and given a name; a living and breathing being that laughed at me as it knocked me down. It stole from me things that i cannot replace.
I hesitate to say things like “I hate myself.” I do not like feeling like the shell of the woman I was. Empty, unfulfilled, ugly, grey, and lifeless. I move and act out of necessity. Under the veil is a deep cavern, and somewhere at the bottom of that pitch abyss, is me. Small. Weak. Tired.
That girl would have resolved to climb out with every fighting beat of her fiery heart. She’d spring from behind the veil and punch that evil beast right in its potato face. She would gather all the stolen things, left the broken ones, and built a fortress around herself to never be hurt again. Then she’d look down from her fortress and spit on the beast repeatedly.
But me? I’m tired. I’m gone. I don’t know her anymore. I wake up and give them everything I am, then return to myself to find more to give the next day. And what 2016 lets me keep, I cherish like they are the very last special things I will ever have. And I blame myself for not fighting back.
Goodness… Might I also add that I am literally tired, not metaphorically. I seriously have not had good sleep in over four months, which often times directly effects how deep my mood is. Or maybe it really is as bad as I think.