This year has been a hard one. I've lost 30 pounds that I needed to lose, I've seen 2 nieces (one blood-related and one not) born, a brother married, a brother engaged, and I laugh as I realize that I followed the "hard year" with the good things that have happened.
It's been another year of living far away from family. It's been a year of juggling work and home and meds and emotions. It's been a year of numbness until about 2 months ago. There are things that have been hard that are in my control, and there are things that have been out of my control. I like to think I've been good about not stressing about the things that are out of my control, but I haven't been so good about changing those things that I'm in control of. Am I scared of succeeding? Am I resigned to be stagnant? Does the year look hard because I've had a hard week? Or a hard holiday season?
I'm reminding myself (especially lately) that writing is such an outlet for me. It puts thoughts into words and helps me put things out there "into the universe." If I don't write, my thoughts stay in and stew in their own juices. Writing helps me make sense of things, or at least figure out what might be rational and what might not be. I'm trying to write a little each day, whether it be in my journal or here. Some of what gets into my journal makes it here, some not.
At the end of today, I'm thankful that I have a husband who loves me more than I know, a sturdy roof over my head, plenty of food to eat, and friends who love me if I'll only let them.
No comments:
Post a Comment