Bringing in the new year always makes me marvel at how far I have come. But none so much as this year. 2012 was probably one of the most difficult years of my life. As that year dawned, I was coming home from Africa feeling like practically a stranger in my own town. In 2012, I began the year with fierce hope for the future, only to have my dreams dashed on the rocks.
Thinking about it now 2012 was the end of the world as I knew it. In March, Ross, my fiance, left me. Hopeless and alone and completely lost. When things first ended I remember feeling like my whole world had been turned on it's head. Like every day was more a waking nightmare than my true life. I felt soulless and empty and hurt. I had had such hopes for us. I'd had a plan for my life, our life together. Suddenly that was all snatched away like it had been a cruel joke. I didn't understand, and I didn't really want to understand at that point. I sunk into one of the worst depressions of my life. No matter what those around me did, I just couldn't be happy anymore. Those of you who know me well know that I have always been a happy person, easy to laughter and quick to smile. Suddenly it was as if every smile was painful, no matter how much I wanted to mean it. In April I was admitted to the hospital and sent to the psych ward after trying to commit suicide.
There have been other bad times in my life. I've been through my fair share of struggles. But that was the first time that I had ever felt that there was no hope. There was no light left in the world. I felt totally alone and unloved and unhappy. I remember talking to doctors at the hospital and everyone kept asking me "How are you feeling?" and "Why do you feel like that?" I got so angry thinking about it. I felt like they had snatched away my only escape. I remember lying in my bed and crying for almost an entire day. I didn't move. I didn't speak to anyone. I just wept. Every time I thought that my tears were finally spent they would begin again just as strong. It felt like an unending flood of sorrow.
My doctor tried to help me see the bigger picture. I was supposed to be graduating from college in a few months. I had already traveled the world more than most people, and from all accounts I had a bright future ahead of me. I remember sitting in his office with my legs tucked into my chest and as he said those things and I thought, it's all empty though. Why would I want to travel the world if there's no one to share it with? Why would I want to finish school if no one is there to celebrate it, to be proud of me? Why would I want to do anything ever again if no one even cares about me? If no one loves me?
When Ross told me that he didn't love me, that he wasn't sure he'd ever loved me, something inside of me died. I feel like I could have dealt with anything but that. Suddenly it was like the last two years of my life were all a lie. It had felt so wonderful and blissful and happy at the time, but here he was telling me it was all in my head, it wasn't real what I had felt. That was something that I just couldn't grasp.
That week in the hospital turned out to be exactly what I needed though. I met people from all different walks of life, all dealing with their own issues, and after a while I realized that I so blessed in my life. I may not be happy, but at least I knew what happiness felt like. I may not like the way my life looked at the moment, but at least I had the power to change it. At least I had a fully-functioning mind, a family who cared for me (even if they didn't always show it), friends who worried about me, who didn't even know I was in the hospital.
I remember the day that I finally started to let myself heal while I was there. We were in group therapy and I was sitting at the piano in the common room we were in. I had been tinkling through "You are my sunshine" on the piano. Ross used to sing that to me. And I sat there playing it softly and crying. When we had to go around and talk about how we were doing, I barely even answered. The therapist asked me again to talk about how I was feeling, and suddenly I just burst out- "I feel empty. I feel dead inside, and I really wish I were dead. At least then it wouldn't hurt so much. I've got nothing left. I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of remembering. I'm just tired. There's just no light left in the world." The room got quiet, and even the therapist seemed sad and at a loss for how to reply. Then from the back corner of the room an old man, old enough to be my father, maybe even grandfather, spoke up. I had no idea who he was and I had never even heard him speak before, but he looked right at me and he said, "I know what it feels like to hurt. But there is always a little light. It may seem far off and impossible but it's there. It just needs time to grow."
I still don't know that man's name, but what he said felt like the only truth that had ever mattered.
Over time I began to heal. I poured myself into my schoolwork. I pushed myself to finish college. I found strength and courage in places I didn't know existed. I found support from people who didn't even realize what a difference they were making. I graduated. I worked. I found out how to keep going forward- the vital importance of just putting one foot in front of the other. That summer I struggled with depression. I used every distraction I could think of. Movies. TV. Alcohol. The list goes on and on. But I found that at night when I was alone, I still cried. There were not enough distractions in the world to make me feel truly loved.
Then I moved to Hawaii, and I had a fresh start. I began a journey with "The Artist's Way" (a book that was given to me by some very wise theatre faculty at my school), and my life changed. As I got to know my sister and her family in Hawaii, I started to find joy again. The kind that only families can bring. "The Artist's Way" taught me how to take care of myself, how to be kind to myself instead of tearing myself apart. Suddenly, I was not crying anymore. I was taking walks and pressing flowers, collecting rocks and listening to choral music. I rediscovered interests I had, dreams that had been put on the shelf years and years ago. I didn't just find a reason for living, I found a new way to live, a much fuller, more exciting, more healthy way to live. For the first time, I was able to look at my relationship with Ross and see the problems coming from both sides- instead of just blaming myself. I began to understand Ross's reasons for leaving, and I found that I wasn't hurt by them anymore. I found peace.
Since then, I have taken huge steps toward a brighter future. I have a new outlook on life. I have peace of mind concerning my past, and a sense of exploration and thrill thinking about my future. I feel like I am closer to my best friends than I have ever been. I have been so blessed, it hardly seems possible that in April I was in the hospital. My life has been completely turned around. I feel a sense of purpose. I feel like I know myself better. I love more freely, live more fully, and laugh more often. It may sound silly, but I learned to love myself again, and that has made all the difference.
Bringing in the new year, I find that I am filled with a sense of excitement. I am sure the road ahead will have struggles and pain, but I feel like I am infinitely better equipped to deal with them. For the first time in my life I understand the saying "The world is your oyster."
So here's to a brand new year, new beginnings and new adventures. I can already tell that it's gonna be a great year and I can't wait to see what's in store. :D
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