Wow, so it really hasn’t hit me that this exhausting year is about to come to a close, and I have high hopes for the new year. I really do, but I still have to acknowledge my doubts. I mean, 2021 isn’t bringing a time machine for a 2019 do-over or an anytime-before-2020 do-over, for that matter.
I don’t know what to expect for this new year. Usually, I gear up for a new year with a new planner, filling it with birthdays and events, but doing that, after the traumatic year we’ve just endured, feels absurd.
Take Christmas, for example, I won’t even get to be with my family to celebrate. We don’t have a tree or a single light hung. My house is dark and empty, almost as bleak as 2020, so I can’t bring myself to believe that 2021 is going to be better. This year left a mark in so many ways, and I just don’t think we can truly celebrate and rejoice until we’ve unpacked that. Everything is in ruins, and I don’t mean to be pessimistic, but realistic.
I am so blessed to be able to live this life, and every day, I am grateful, but sometimes, gratitude doesn’t feel like enough. Though I am grateful, it doesn’t change the fact that I am unhappy, that I’m suffering in my own right. And if I’m being honest, this suffering began long before 2020, but in the fall of 2019. I haven’t been okay in a really long time, and I think it’s time that I acknowledge that because putting on a smile and braving the world is nearly impossible, and yet, I do it every single day. When does the façade end? When will I realize I can’t do everything on my own? When will I admit that these burdens are too much for one person to carry? When will I seek help? When will seeking help no longer be a sign of weakness to me?
When will I be honest with myself and everyone else? In 2021? Will this be the year of honesty and truth-seeking? Or will these past traumas continue to haunt me?
So long, 2020…
Aww Malaigh, talk to us about what you are feeling, no one needs to suffer in silence.