What. A. Year.
I wish I could write an uplifting post about personal growth. About how much I’ve learnt about myself this year, got in touch with my inner self, matured, changed. In all honesty though, I haven’t much.
I spent the first sixth months of this year firmly in denial. I knew what I had to do by March, but I resolutely didn’t do anything about it until June. It’s a painful, horrible thing to think that you are going to spend to rest of your life with someone only to work out that it would, in fact, be an incredible mistake if you did.
I have let myself be frozen by anixiety and fear. It’s no surprise to many of you that I failed 3 subjects and barely passed another 3. I have relied on old addictive behaviours instead of healthy coping stratergies. I have shut people out and held myself in.
Really, this year there is not much that I am proud of.
I hope next year will be better. I hope I put more effort into life. I have lived too long behind the veil of illness and insecurity (sometimes, with legitmate cause but often without).
For a month and a half recently, I was reguarly chatting to guy. A good, funny, kind, intelligant Christian man. He helped me see myself in a new, or rather, old light. Once upon a time, I was fearless and fun and full of life. I miss being that person. I know I can’t ever be exactly her again, but I want to try to regain some of the important parts of life. He has inspired me to be passionate again.
I have three friends who have been struggling in various stages of recovery from eating disorders this year. They want to get better and Iam inspired by their zest for life.
My sister is building a house. My mum is standing up for herself. My dad is enjoying life again.
Next year, I hope to be proud of myself.