Maybe the last couple of years have been too tough, or maybe last year ended on such a sour note that it already has effected the new year, but there wasn't a lot of joy for me heading into 2022. Usually the new year brings a certain amount of anticipation, hope that things will be better, or that things will fall into place. I experienced none of that with the changing of the calendar.
In fact, I probably entered this year with a healthy dose of skepticism, and whole lot of angst, and if I'm honest, in a state of depression. Nothing will change. It will only get worse. There is no hope.
I didn't realize how hard the last couple of years had been on my mental health. After all, my family has been relatively healthy, our jobs were secure, we didn't have a lot of struggles that we witnessed around us, so who am I to complain? I'm blessed. How can I be stressed? Then I went to a trauma conference. They talked about how normally people experience stress daily and it's a little hill that quickly recedes. Someone who has experienced trauma has more of a spike when stress comes along and they are unable to recover easily, so they sit in this state of stress and depression until their body can regulate and go back to normal. As soon as I saw the graphic, I realized that I had been spiking over and over and over again the past two years.
On top of that, the year ended in a way that absolutely plunged me into depression. My life will never be the same, and I don't know how to cope. While I'm the first person to say that there is no shame in seeking help, I'm the last person to admit that I need help. Instead I heap more guilt on myself. You're so blessed! How could you be so ungrateful? You should be able to fix this! What's wrong with you? If that weren't enough, I don't even know how to go about finding help. And that makes me even more depressed and more stressed because I have no idea where to even start and for goodness sake why can't I even do that right?
So, how did 2022 start? My classroom added a new student and it completely shifted the dynamic of my already chaotic class. On top of that, my husband started the year off sick for probably a week and a half to two weeks which left me frustrated (I'm a terrible nurse) and feeling very alone as we isolated to try to keep the rest of us well. And now, in spite of isolating, I'm sick, and back in isolation away from my entire family. My illness happened near my oldest child's 18th birthday so there's also a certain amount of guilt at 'ruining' what ought to have been a special event.
And now you might be wondering why you're reading such a depressing post. Is there any light, any hope, any lesson to be learned in the middle of my mess? Of course there is.
I am slowly learning to ask for help. I am looking for counseling. I am working through some of the issues that hit so hard at the end of last year. In fact, it's no coincidence that my church's women's Bible study to start this year is Forgiving What You Can't Forget by Lysa Terkeurst. Yeah, God practically put neon lights around that one for me.
I even have some goals for this year. I'm hoping to publish at least two more books this year - one more in the Holliday Hotel series and another Christmas novella. I heard of another publishing opportunity that I'm going to pursue. I don't know how that opportunity is going to go, but I'm praying. In my classroom, I am focusing on baby steps both academically and relationally. For my family, I am working on being a better wife and mother. I think I've let my moods challenge my relationship with my husband and children the last couple of years, and I want to repair what I can.
Maybe I don't have a word for the year, a resolution, or a verse, but that doesn't mean I'll remain stagnant this year. God is working in me. He has me in a place where I need Him, a place where my weakness will demonstrate His strength. He is always faithful, always good, and He never, ever gives up on me. Everything I go through is an chance to grow, to become the masterpiece He sees when He looks at me.
